TWC 4: Shake, Rattle, and Mole!
by Zebeckras
Summary: Rewrite in-progress! Fourth in the Webfoot Chronicles. What's behind the earthquakes in St. Canard? Is it just nature or is there more? Plus, unemployed and desperate, Beth takes urgent measures to get Drake's attention.
1. Act I, Chapter 1

**Darkwing Duck: The Webfoot Chronicles, Part Four  
Shake, Rattle, and Mole  
By Zebeckras**

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_Author's Notes: Okay, first official chapter of TWC4. Yaaay! I meant to get started on this in late September/early October but I got no writing done at all then. (It's currently the start of November.) I can't say what my pace will be on this, but it IS my hope to get the second chapter written by the end of this month and then the act completed by the end of the year... Um so, please leave feedback, please please, somehow recently the readership AND the comments dropped off of my stuff and... well come on, what would YOU assume? So if you read this and like it, please take a second to let me know. I'd really appreciate it. :)_

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It started as a rattle at the window.

A sort of buzzing sound accompanied the shaking of the window pane - then all the window panes - then, just as Beth and Gosalyn were peering around the room trying to figure out what was going on, the furniture started jumping about as well, and there was a noise like thunder, and suddenly Beth could swear that she felt the couch she was on moving as well.

Utterly confounded, she said aloud, "Is this an-"

"EARTHQUAAAAAKE!" yelled Gosalyn, who at ten years old recognized it instantly for what it was. She tossed the controller to her video game aside as the quake picked up, and leapt to her feet. "THIS IS AWESOME!"

When Beth got up as well, the room was actually buckling around her, and it was anything but awesome. She felt like she was getting motion sickness just from standing still. "Gosalyn - get under the frame to the kitchen door!" she managed as the girl scampered across the moving floor towards the front entrance.

"Huh? C'mon, let's get out of here-"

"NO! Doorframe! Go!" Beth had to clutch the arm of the couch as she stumbled and nearly fell. Meanwhile Gosalyn somehow flitted across the floor, reminding Beth vaguely of a mountain goat, and obediently braced herself in the doorway of the kitchen before looking expectantly at her babysitter.

Beth took about four steps before getting distracted by the sound of glass shattering; she turned to see that several pictures had fallen off the wall, and one had broken. Somehow she felt like she was going to get blamed for that. Her next step didn't connect quite properly with the ground, and she lost her balance and fell on her stomach. The impact knocked the air out of her and sent her glasses bouncing off her face, somewhere onto the carpet in front of her. Well, at least it was carpeted, she thought as she tried to suck air back into her lungs.

"You coming?" Gosalyn asked semi-urgently. Beth waved a hand at her weakly, indicating she was fine where she was. Maybe, she thought, if anything heavy fell on her, it would be an improvement on her life at this point. Or maybe the ground would literally open up and swallow her, as she'd wished it to do at various times in her life.

The rumbling felt slightly more distant now, and as Beth gripped the floor and tried to ignore the sense that she was on the ocean during a storm, the shaking slowly died down. she wondered how long it had gone on for; it felt like forever, but other than the broken pictures, there had been no damage so it couldn't have been that long. From the doorway, Gosalyn said, "Why a doorframe, anyway? Why not just go outside?"

Still hugging the carpet, Beth said, "Some of the building could fall on you. Or wires. Or things like that."

"Ohhh," said Gosalyn. "Much better to stay in here and let the roof collapse on me."

"Supposedly," said Beth, who was too freaked out to argue.

"So how does lying flat on the floor help keep you from getting squished?"

Beth sighed as the tremors subsided. She still felt them slightly, or maybe she was the one shaking - but in any case, she felt safe enough to sit up and begin hunting around for her glasses. "I just figured maybe if I pretended I was already flattened, the quake would leave me alone," she answered absently. Gosalyn laughed.

"Can I get out of here now?" she asked. "They're right in front of you, by the way."

"OH - thanks," Beth answered, and crawled forward cautiously, sweeping her hand in front as she went. "And yes - I think it ought to be-" Her knee came down on something hard and there was a crunch. For a second she was silent, and so was Gosalyn; finally she said, "Please tell me that my glasses are somewhere in front of me and I just smashed your videogame controller."

"Sorry," Gosalyn said, sounding truly sympathetic as Beth lifted her knee and picked up her glasses. "Oh boy. I don't think tape is gonna fix those all the way."

Beth held the glasses up directly in front of her face and squinted at them; she still could barely make them out. She felt them gingerly and when it didn't seem as if anything was going to gouge her, she put them on. One of the lenses had a spider-webbing of cracks over it, and the bridge was bent. She sighed wearily. "Occupational hazard."

Turning to Gosalyn, she took a breath and tried to make the best of it. "So! Better clean up that glass, huh? Do you have a dustpan anywhere nearby?"

"You bet!" Gosalyn cried, and took off for the kitchen. By the time she returned, Beth was kneeling by the wall, carefully picking up shards of glass and looking out of only one eye. "Uh, does that make it easier?"

"Huh? Oh, no - just, the crack in this is really getting in my way. I thought if I just looked through one eye - but it's making my head hurt." She placed a handful of glass into the dustpan and sighed, while Gosalyn loaded her arms full of larger shards and dropped them into the pile Beth had already started. Beth jumped at the sound. "Um, could you be a bit more gentle than that?"

"Why? It's not like it's gonna matter if it breaks _more_."

Beth shook her head. "You know, I think I should handle this. I don't want you getting hurt on broken glass."

"Oh come on! I know what I'm doing!" Gosalyn protested vehemently. Beth frowned and picked up another few pieces. As she turned to slowly place them carefully in the dustpan, Gosalyn continued, "Honestly, I'm insulted! You really think just because I'm a kid, I'm going to - YAAAAAH! AAAIEEEEE!"

"OH MY GOD!" Beth yelled, her eyes widening as she turned back to Gosalyn who was holding her hand to her side and grimacing in pain.

"_OHHHH NOOOO! MY JUGULAR!_" Gosalyn screamed, and Beth stared in horror, uncertain if she should try to make a tourniquet or run to call 911 first; then she realized that Gosalyn was laughing.

"Ahahaha... Just kidding," said the girl, pulling her hand out from her shirt and wiggling it. She caught sight of Beth's expression, which was still utterly horror-stricken. "Heh heh... sorry, that was probably not nearly as funny to you as it was to me."

Beth finally found her voice, which sounded flat even to her ears as she said beseechingly, "Please let me do this?"

Gosalyn relented, and went to sit on the couch and see if the earthquake had affected her video game console. "Wow, so that was an earthquake! I've never felt one before!" she said happily.

"Never? We used to get them every so often in Duckburg. How can you have enjoyed that?" Beth squinted hard in the hopes that she could pick out the smaller bits of glass in the carpet. She was probably going to need to vacuum, she realized.

"I dunno if I really _enjoyed_ it... but y'know, I just like being there when stuff _happens_. What's the point of living life if your life never does anything?"

With a small, rueful smile, Beth answered, "You and I are obviously separated by denominational differences." Rising to her feet, she asked, "Where's your vacuum?"

"What? You're not gonna clean up, are you?"

"Well, just the glass-"

"Beth, we just lived through a catastrophic earthquake! You don't _vacuum_ right after a catastrophe!"

Beth raised an eyebrow. "I would hardly call that a-"

"You don't _vacuum_," Gosalyn repeated firmly, and bounded off the couch so that she could grab Beth by the hand and pull her back to retake her seat. "Dad can take care of that tomorrow."

Once she was settled on the couch, Beth took off her glasses and looked at them ruefully. "Earthquake," she said in a low voice. "It's like a metaphor for my life now. Everything's all shaken up and falling apart."

"Aw, well, you'll get another job soon," Gosalyn said sympathetically.

Beth sighed. "I don't know about that. I mean, it's been more than two weeks now and NOTHING! And I've looked all over! And - and what was I _thinking_, quitting? Why did I do that, Gos?"

Gosalyn shrugged. "I dunno. 'Cause you hated it there?"

"It wasn't that bad," Beth said sullenly. Her head fell forward. "I never said I _hated_ it. Did I?"

"Yeah," Gosalyn answered. "A bunch of times."

"Really?"

"Over and over."

Beth looked uncertain. "You're sure?"

"The next time we saw you after you'd quit you talked about it for like, an hour and you said you hated it about five or six times. Dad started saying something about a record tripping, whatever that means."

"Skipping, not tripping," Beth corrected her, and blushed. "I talked about it for an HOUR? I mean... I know I was kind of worked up about it-"

"You kept getting up and pacing, too. Then you'd say your life was starting over from that day on."

"Oh, lord," Beth said, and put her face in her hands. "I really didn't think I was that bad." She sighed heavily and sat back on the couch, leaning her head back. "And it was so stupid. I can't believe I got myself all worked up, thinking I could actually _get_ anywhere. Look at me, what have I done since then? I mean, other than send out resumes and spend a good portion of my savings, that is."

Gosalyn couldn't help rolling her eyes at this point, and hoped that without her glasses on Beth wouldn't be able to see her. "Y'know, maybe you should think of this as a vacation or something."

"And it's not even just being out of a job!" Beth went on, as if she hadn't heard. "It's everything! I mean, there's all this money stuff - the roof of my house needs to be fixed up and I only have enough in my savings account for two more mortgage payments, and now my glasses... and I'm going to HAVE to get these fixed, in case I ever get an interview, even though that seems unlikely... You know what my problem is, Gosalyn?"

"Negative thinking?" Gosalyn tried.

"No, it's that nobody _notices_ me. I just fly under everybody's radar no matter what I do. Even Launchpad's starting to avoid me."

"Oh, he is not," Gosalyn said, but Beth shook her head.

"I'm telling you, the past couple of weeks, ever since I quit my job, he barely says hello to me when I come in; then he asks me how the job hunt's going, then he goes into the kitchen until I go upstairs to talk to you, and then he and Drake leave."

Gosalyn could see this was a losing battle against a pity party, so she gave up for the time being. "Wow, well, how about that."

"And Drake..." Beth's head was still back against the cushions of the couch. She closed her eyes. "I can't do a thing to make him notice me. Ever. No matter what I try to say, he just doesn't care. I mean, I don't know if it would be worse if he outright hated me, or better, because at least then he'd have SOME kind of feelings towards me."

"Alright, that's IT," Gosalyn said, and she got to her feet and walked across the couch cushions until she could grab Beth. Beth, startled beyond response, cringed slightly. "Enough with the moping already! You're supposed to be a grownup and all you do is act like you can't run your own life. You want a new job? Go into these places and TELL them why they should hire you! You want people to notice you? Well _make_ them notice you, darn it! If you want people to pay attention to you then you gotta give 'em no choice but to pay attention! Grab them by the shoulders and SHAKE them!" she said loudly, shaking Beth by her own shoulders for emphasis.

Beth looked stunned. "I - well - I, I don't know HOW to do that!"

"So I'll help ya! I'm good at getting people's attention."

"I can tell," said Beth weakly. "You'd... you'd really do that? Help me?"

"Sure!" Gosalyn stepped off the couch and landed evenly on her feet. She looked pleased with herself. "I do it for Honker all the time."

"Even..." Beth looked uncertain. "Even if the person I want attention from the most is, um, your father...?"

Gosalyn drooped slightly at that, but then shrugged. "Well, sure, why not. What else are friends for?"

Beth's expression went from uncertain, to touched, to slightly giddy. She grinned and looked like she was considering crying at the same time. "Awwww... really? Friends? Aw, thanks, Gos!" At which point she hugged the ten-year-old standing in front of her, which Gosalyn considered unnecessarily mushy, and she wished she'd stood slightly farther back.

"So... speeeeaking of Honker," she said once Beth had let her go, "I wonder if he's okay? His family owns a lot of big furniture. How likely do you think it is that the earthquake made any of it fall on him and squish him?"

Beth didn't appear to know how to answer that. She hedged for a minute, then said, "Y'know, I think it would be fine if you wanted to go over and check in on him. I mean, we should leave a note for your father - I bet he's on his way home too - but if you want to go over and see..."

"Keen gear! Beth, you rock!"

Smiling slightly, Beth picked up her broken glasses and appeared to weigh them in her hands. "Nobody's ever said that to me before," she said quietly.

* * *

They'd been up patrolling the city from the ThunderQuack for somewhere between two to three hours, by Launchpad's count, before Darkwing sighed. "I guess all those emergency vehicles earlier were for a fire, not for a police chase or anything _worthwhile_." He pulled himself away from the passenger window and stretched his back. "I'm tired of sitting... let's head back to the Tower."

"You got it!"

They were back within less than ten minutes, with the jet landed and everything. Darkwing checked the time and frowned. "It's not even 11 o'clock yet. Ugh, could this night go any slower?"

"Well, some nights have to be slow, or we'd never get anythin' done!" Launchpad said consolingly.

Darkwing grumbled, "That doesn't make any SENSE. It's the slow nights when there's nothing to DO. If we didn't have any slow nights... Oh, forget it."

"Think we oughta just go home?"

"We can't." He tossed himself into the chair that sat in front of his computer terminal, and listlessly spun in a half arc. "That woman is there until 11:30. We need to kill some time before we can get back in."

Launchpad crossed his arms. "Ya can't even call her by her name?"

"Oh fine," Darkwing said, "_Beth_ is there. Happy now?"

Not really, Launchpad thought, but it wasn't worth picking a fight over. He nodded, and decided to give another shot at the crossword puzzle that had defeated him earlier in the day.

A couple of minutes passed in silence, and finally Darkwing swung around again in his chair and faced Launchpad from the platform where he sat. "Look, LP..."

"Yeah? Hey, d'you know a nine-letter word for 'koala'?"

Darkwing thought for a moment. "Marsupial."

"Thanks!"

There was a pause, and then Darkwing said, "LP, I'm about to say something that I predict is going to go over pretty well with you." Launchpad looked up in surprise, and Darkwing cleared his throat. "I don't normally say this - since it almost never happens - but... I've given some thought to that Beth Webfoot woman. And... I think I was wrong about her."

Launchpad was flabbergasted, and - odd, considering how much it rankled him to hear Darkwing speaking poorly of Beth - bordering on horrified. The last thing he'd said about dating Beth was that it would never, ever happen - and even just now he'd been dismissing her offhand! And what about Morgana? Though Beth would certainly be happy - and, well, that was important... He couldn't grasp it, though. It didn't seem to make sense. "Isn't this... kinda sudden?"

"Yes, I know," Darkwing said with a blase sigh. "I know I stuck to my guns for as long as I could, but - well, like I said, I'm not often wrong. But I'll be the first to admit it when I am..." He smiled graciously before continuing, "Anyway, after observing her for weeks now, I've finally reached the conclusion that you were right all along."

"Me?" Launchpad choked. "I'm... I'm not..."

Nodding, Darkwing said, "Yep. I'm now quite sure she's _not_ a supervillain."

OH. That made much more sense. Launchpad felt kind of stupid. "OH, oh, yeah! Well, I coulda told you that! Uh, and I guess I did."

"Had to be sure," Darkwing said sternly. "I mean, she was associating with _two_ known supervillains - even if it _was_ by accident, as you maintain, it's still my responsibility to investigate suspicious things like that!"

"Well, I'm glad you're not still investigatin' her, anyway."

Darkwing shrugged. "Well, it's six weeks of my life I'll never get back, but hey. No harm done."

"Good!" Launchpad was genuinely relieved to put this behind them. It was one thing when DW complained about the Muddlefoots, but he'd never actually accused them - to their faces or behind their backs - of supervillainy. Why he'd picked Beth out as a potential menace was still unclear to Launchpad.

"Yep, yep, yep." Darkwing leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. "So we can fire her now."

"WHAT? No!"

Looking annoyed, Darkwing sat back up. "Look, I don't need to keep her around for observation anymore! And let's be honest, Gos doesn't even _need_ a babysitter most nights. And when she does we can just send her over to Honker's house!"

"DW, she doesn't have any other job! Ya can't fire her now!"

"Hey, _I_ didn't tell her to quit her day job."

"She hated it there!"

"So she said," Darkwing muttered. "Launchpad, I don't want to have to put up with her in my life indefinitely. I already have the Muddlefoots living next door, the worst thing that could happen to me is to have that Webfoot woman as a permanent fixture in my life _too_!"

Stung, Launchpad could only frown. Then he stood up and headed for the transport chairs.

"Wh-! Where are you going?" Darkwing called after him.

"Home! I don't care if she _is_ still there, at least _she_ doesn't make up stuff about perfectly nice people!"

"Hooooold it, hold it, HOLD it!" Darkwing leaped over the side of the platform he was on and landed just beside Launchpad, then grabbed him by the scarf. "If you show up there now, my secret identity is blown. And I'm not even talking about YOU - why are you taking this so personally?"

Launchpad didn't have an answer for that; it just bothered him. With his arms crossed, he said sullenly, "It's just not nice. And it's not the kind of thing a guy sworn to defend the city oughta do - put a nice, normal person outta work completely."

"Fine." Darkwing relented, and shook his head. "She can stay on the payroll until she gets a new job - but if it starts to look like she's not even trying, I'm changing my mind!"

All his anger evaporated, and Launchpad smiled a bit. "Thanks, DW. I just... it seems important, y'know?"

Darkwing raised an eyebrow at Launchpad, but didn't reply directly to the statement. Instead he headed back for his computer; as an apparent afterthought he said over his shoulder, "I thought _you_ were avoiding her now too."

"Nah," said Launchpad vaguely, which was a lie. But explaining to Darkwing why he _was_ suddenly sort of, kind of, a little bit avoiding Beth would have been complicated and left things open for a huge misunderstanding, so it was better to keep quiet about it. The last thing he wanted was for DW to think that he _didn't_ like Beth anymore, when really, that wasn't it at all.

It was just that things were weird for the moment, that was all. Only slightly weird, really, but maybe he'd been seeing just a little bit too much of Beth or just associating her with the wrong things, whatever it was, his brain had tossed up some crazy dream about her a couple of weeks back, and he'd felt a little embarrassed around her since. Given the awkward situation, he figured the best way to deal with it was probably just to see a little less of her until he forgot about it, the way he forgot about most of his dreams, so he was keeping a little bit of a wider berth than usual. And, for some reason, the dream was taking a little longer to be forgotten than most did.

He wasn't sure if she'd noticed - he didn't think she would, since she only really seemed to pay attention to Drake anyway, but he might've imagined that she seemed a little disappointed a couple of times recently. Was it wishful thinking, or - well, wait, "wishful thinking" kind of suggested that he _wanted_ her to be disappointed, so...

Darn it, this was too complicated, and complicated was what he was trying to avoid. He settled back into his chair and tried staring at the crossword puzzle until the little blank boxes filled themselves with answers.


	2. Act I, Chapter 2

**Darkwing Duck: The Webfoot Chronicles part IV  
Shake, Rattle and Mole!  
by Zebeckras**

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_A/N: Please review. This is longer than I'd hoped it would be (and I edited, I SERIOUSLY tore out chunks and longer versions of scenes can be found on my blog if you're interested) and I'm very nervous about the content with these edits, if it seems natural or not. Please, please, PLEASE leave me feedback._

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Act I, chapter 2

At Darkwing's insistence they waited until 12:30 before going home - just to be completely sure Beth would be gone - and the wait was long, and boring. Darkwing kept an ear on the police radio just in case some crime reports came up, but the city's finest were apparently focused on something else or other.

The most interesting portion of the night came when Darkwing discovered that a large portion of the contents from the Tower's half-dismantled kitchen had been knocked to the floor. About half of the dishes were at least slightly broken, there was cereal scattered over the linoleum, and one of the chairs was knocked over. Darkwing wasn't pleased as he cleaned it up, and kept sending accusatory glances in Launchpad's direction.

He was still on the subject when they took the chairs back to the house. "Well, if it _wasn't_ one of us - and I'm not saying which one it must have been - then the only other option is that somebody _broke in_ to the Tower, and that's not an option I want to consider!" he said testily.

Launchpad restated his position. "I dunno if anyone broke in, but I'd know if I knocked a chair and a buncha dishes over, and I didn't! Maybe we have mice-?"

The suggestion was left unanswered, because suddenly Darkwing leaped over the center table that was between the chairs and clamped Launchpad's beak shut, before indicating the sofa.

And on the sofa was a young woman in repose.

Darkwing didn't wait any longer than that; he jumped from the chair to the coffee table, pulled out his gas gun, and aimed it at Beth. "Don't move!" he announced.

Launchpad jumped out of his chair. "What're you _doin'_?"

"What, it's not OBVIOUS? It's an attack!"

"She's _asleep_!" He tried to grab Darkwing's gas gun; this only infuriated the crimefighter and they engaged in a brief tug of war, which Darkwing won.

"Don't distract me!" Darkwing snapped, turning the barrel of the gun back onto Beth, who hadn't moved. "Wake up," he said. When she still didn't move, he repeated sharply, "Wake _UP_!"

She did - slowly, stretching her arms above her head. "Drake...?" she mumbled.

Darkwing held the gas gun steadily at her face, but scowled and directed a look to Launchpad. Launchpad pointed at the coffee table where Beth's glasses rested, and Darkwing let the gun lower slightly.

Beth, meanwhile, sat up quickly and looked somewhat alarmed. "OH, what time is it? Did I fall asleep?"

"Uh, it's just past 12:30," said Launchpad carefully. Darkwing waved a hand broadly, staring at her to discern her reaction; she squinted in his direction but seemed confused.

"Oh, sorry," she said softly. She put her hand to her head. "I didn't know..."

Still evidently cautious, Darkwing stepped down from the table and eyed her. "What are you still doing her? You're supposed to be gone by 11:30."

She looked up at him quickly, and her eyes were wide with surprise. "What? I - well I didn't know you'd be back so late, b-but... I thought it would be best if I waited, you know, so that I could make sure Gos was okay-"

"Gosalyn? _What happened to Gosalyn?_" Darkwing, already on edge, drew close to her as he asked this. Beth's eyes narrowed in response as he got closer to her field of vision, and he pulled back again warily. "Is she-"

"Oh she's fine. She got a big kick out of it, actually. I just, you know, in case of aftershocks or... I really didn't think you'd be back so _late_ after all this."

Darkwing looked to Launchpad, who shrugged. "After...shocks?"

Her expression perfectly without guile, Beth said, "From the earthquake?"

"Earthquake?" Launchpad nearly squawked.

"...Yeah? Around 8 o'clock? You remember?"

"Of course," Darkwing said quickly. "I- I'm going upstairs to check on Gos." He swept his cape to the side and, still shooting glances backwards at Beth, went upstairs to change.

Beth sighed and looked both tired and defeated. Launchpad sat down on the couch next to her, and patted her shoulder. "So... earthquake, huh?"

"I know," Beth said in wonder, "can you believe it?"

He couldn't; he'd had no idea until just three minutes ago, so he'd have to fake it. "Crazy. Glad everyone's OK, though. Sorry you had to fall asleep here."

"No, I'm sorry," she said in a thick voice, which led into a quick yawn. "I just - I thought you guys would be home earlier."

"Yeah, uh, traffic was bad. Y'know."

"Traffic... OH." She put her hand to her mouth and looked thunderstruck. Then she put her hand over her eyes. "OH, of _course_. THAT'S why he's mad. Oh, I am so stupid."

"What? He's not mad. Why do you think he's mad?" Launchpad felt a need to protect her, but it came out as a sort of frantic cover-up.

"Nothing - I just... oh, sheesh, I didn't think. No, it's nothing."

"You're not stupid," he said earnestly. He looked around the room. "Is it the pictures that fell down? 'Cause that's not your fault."

"No, I know." She looked at him and smiled.

Drake came down the stairs, glowering at them both. Launchpad nodded to him as he approached. "Hey. Gos okay?"

"She's _fine_," Drake said stiffly.

Beth clasped her hands in front of her and began earnestly, "Oh, Drake, I am so sorry for staying late - I know you prefer that I don't, it's just that I didn't think I could leave Gosalyn alone and there was no way to reach-"

"Yeah, well we had an agreement," he snapped, coming around the couch to stand before her with his arms crossed. "And don't think you're going to be getting overtime. You know, if we don't discuss changes to our schedule, I don't see any reason-"

"Um-" She had her head angled down, but she lifted it to look in the direction of his voice. "You... you're not honestly taking me to task for staying here to ensure the safety of your daughter after a natural disaster, are you...?"

Drake was frozen mid-sentence, even as Beth lowered her head entirely and appeared to cringe from what she'd just said. Drake grit his teeth in obvious frustration, then answered, "_NO_, of _course_ I'm not. That... was... the right thing to do." Saying this seemed to pain him. "Although you COULD have left her at the Muddlefoots-"

"That wouldn't've made a lotta sense," Launchpad put in.

Drake glared even harder. "_NO_, you're right, it _wouldn't_," he barely managed to say through his teeth. "SO. Thank you for your responsible babysitting."

Beth lifted her head, looking relieved and intimidated. "I-I... it's m-my pleasure, honestly, and I really am so sor-"

"It's nothing. Forget it." Drake's tone suggested the opposite, but he still sounded less hostile now, and more reluctantly accepting. "And now leave. I mean," he amended hastily, before anyone could get upset, "get home, it's late."

"Y-yes. Thank you.. Um... S-see you tomorrow?"

Already on the stairs, Drake said wearily, "Yes, see you tomorrow... Good_bye_."

"Night!" Launchpad called. Turning to Beth, he said, "So - g'night, I guess..." Now that the shock of having her here on their return was wearing off, the general awkwardness he'd been feeling around her lately was returning. Looking at her, he felt an odd mixture of uncomfortably wanting her to leave, and reluctance to part with her.

"Yeah, I - I'm sorry to be here so late. I won't keep you or anything. I just... Can I use your phone, _really_ quick, to call for a cab?"

"Sure, guess so..." That was a lot for her to pay for though, especially when she had next to no income. "You sure you wanna take a cab, though?"

"Oh - I'll wait for it outside! You won't have to worry about me at all," she said reassuringly. "I just, um... I normally walk, and I don't think I can right-"

"Wait outside? Forget it!" Launchpad cut her off. He didn't think before adding, "I'll walk ya home!"

"Oh really? No - no, it's late, and you probably-"

He took her arm firmly, and pulled her to her feet. "It's not that late. An' I can use the exercise!"

Beth kept protesting, but it seemed out of habit; she let herself be led, gathered up her bag and her glasses and even thanked him for holding the door. When they were outside, he turned to pull the door shut and lock it, and she lifted her face to the sky and took in a deep breath. When he turned back, she was smiling, and it occurred to him that this was a boneheaded thing for him to do. This was at least ten minutes guaranteed alone time with Beth, when he was making efforts _not_ to be alone with her. What had he been _thinking_? They had a car - why didn't he just _drive_ her home? Even simpler, why didn't he just pay for the cab himself?

He was going to make one of those suggestions, and something stopped him - some guilty but persuasive voice at the back of his head that was telling him that it had been way too long since he'd had a chance to talk to her, that it wouldn't do any harm, and really, what was the difference between the time spent waiting for a cab or riding in a car, and the time spent walking together in the moonlight on a nice, early-fall evening? Besides, just _look_ at those EYES; without her glasses on, her eyes practically sparkled.

She said apologetically, "It's not far."

"Huh? Oh. Uh, I don't mind." He'd been staring; thank goodness that, without her glasses on, she couldn't tell.

"It really isn't, it's only about 15 or 20 minutes. It can be a little tricky though - there are a lot of turns towards the end and that's why I couldn't do it alone." She looked completely chagrined even though she was still wearing a smile. "It's a nice walk though, or usually it is, anyway."

"Nice night for it," he offered weakly, completely and deliberately tossing away his last chance of offering to drive her instead of walk.

They were only about two or three houses past his own before she stopped. "Um, Launchpad..."

He turned back to her, and she was looking sheepish. "Yeah? Somethin' the matter?"

With a sigh, she said, "Well - this will sound really ridiculous, I know, but um... Okay, without my glasses on, at night I'm, um -" She stopped for a moment, and put her hand to her forehead, looking as if she was about to admit something awful. "Um, I'm considered legally blind, so..."

"Whoa," he said, taken aback. "Seriously?"

"Mm." She made an embarrassed grimace.

"You can't see _anything_?"

"Oh, I can see," she said quickly. "But well, during the day, from a distance it's mostly just blurry colours and shapes... So, at night, without any light to define them, I get no colours and poorly-defined shadows. It's all just - I mean, well, for all I know I'm talking to a mailbox right now."

That explained that, then. "Uh, you are, actually," he said. She looked in surprise to the right of the space she had been addressing, then looked pained.

"Well. Sorry about that."

"No problemo." He was trying hard not to laugh.

Awkwardly, she said, "You really look nothing like a mailbox."

"Oh, I dunno. You've never seen me in blue."

With that, she finally cracked a smile. He felt relieved on her behalf, and at the same time - giddy?

No, not giddy. Not really. Just nice to cheer up a friend, that was all. No ulterior motives to this walk, no sir.

"Anyway," she said, pulling herself back on track, "I'm really sorry to ask this, I know it's just bizzare, but could you do me a favour and, um, kind of hold my hand while we're walking?"

Launchpad blinked and wondered if the universe was just plotting against him. "Uh, sure, my pleasure." Not a big deal. It wasn't a big deal at all, so why make it into one? Right. He unconsciously rubbed his hand onto his jacket, then took a couple of steps toward her and gingerly took her hand in his own, circling his fingers around her palm awkwardly, then started walking. She followed, and immediately shifted her hand in his, repositioning it and then sliding her fingers between his own so that their hands were gently laced together. And something funny happened to his stomach; it seemed to turn around backwards.

"I should probably give you directions in advance," she said casually, "since I won't be able to tell when we get to where. So basically, when we get to the intersection here with Muskrat Drive we want to turn right, and then stay on Muskrat for a long time until we pass a church. Then two streets after the church, that's Mangrove Place, and that's where we want to take a left."

He had a horrible feeling that his palms were sweating. This was awful, it was like being a teenager again - wasn't he supposed to have outgrown this? If his palms _were_ sweating, would she notice? If she noticed, would she say anything? Her hand was really _warm_, so it would seem natural for both of their hands to get a little sweaty, but hers seemed perfectly dry. Dry and also soft, not in a bad way, not like someone who had never done any work or like a baby's hands, but just in the way of someone who probably knew when and how to moisturize. Soft in a way that made Launchpad acutely aware of just what effects his years of mechanic work on his planes had had on his own hands. It dawned on him belatedly that he hadn't listened to a single word of what she'd just been saying, and now she was finished, and he had no idea how to get where he was supposed to be taking her.

"Uh, okay!" he said, to cover for it. "Well, y'know, I'm no good with directions so, how about I'll let ya know every time we get someplace an' you can tell me what comes next?"

"Sounds good," she said cheerfully. He had her repeat the first step, and he did his best to listen even though he was fighting a maddening urge to stroke the back of her hand with his thumb the entire time.

After walking in silence for a bit, he realized he'd have to make small talk or else he'd end up just _thinking_ the entire time, and the topic his mind kept returning to was to wonder when, precisely, she'd become so _pretty_. Was it just because she didn't have her glasses on? She was _cute_ - incredibly cute - but "pretty" had never even entered his mind before. Or had it? He wasn't sure anymore. To distract himself, he started conversations on any topic that came into his head, including her history with glasses (since she was 12), what was wrong with her eyes (nearsighted and something about degeneration), her worry that Drake was still mad at her (no way for him to reassure her on that), and her ongoing job hunt.

That, it turned out, was a bad topic to bring up. Beth was _really_ stressed out about it, not just because she'd quit without a new job to go to, but also because she couldn't use her old job as a reference. After she'd gone on anxiously for several minutes, he said, "Uh, I'm sorry. I guess it's kinda my fault you quit..."

"What? No! Oh, no it's not, really." She turned to reassure him hastily, waving her free hand all around as she did. "You just said I should look for another job, I'M the one who quit! Nobody is to blame for this but me." She looked at him, or towards him anyway, with an anguished expression. "Launchpad... What do I do? What if I never get another job?"

With that look on her face, he found that the only thing that seemed important was to help her, to find a way to make all of her problems disappear. What could he possibly say to make her feel good about herself? "Of course you'll get another job! You're a great worker an' - an' you, uh, you have attention to details!"

"I don't know. I said to Gos earlier - people, they just don't notice me. There's nothing on my resume that looks interesting, and it's the same thing when they meet me - just being smart isn't going to do it, it's like I'm invisibe. Nobody will ever call me because nobody will ever NOTICE me."

"Well then, you make 'em notice," Launchpad reasoned. It couldn't be that hard. Beth sighed again, and pushed her hair back off of her forehead as she looked vaguely ahead of them. "As long as you try, people'll notice you. And when they do..." He stopped, because of course as he said that, he noticed her. Noticed her hair falling lightly across her forehead, and her eyes shining, and the way the light from the streetlamps seemed softer when it fell on her. He noticed the way he felt when he was with her, and when she smiled, and he wondered when exactly this had started and whether it was just too late to stop it now. His world seemed to be reforming itself and everything that was important was happening right at this moment.

Beth, her bangs still pushed a little to the side of her face, gave him a tiny, curious smile. "When they do, what?"

"Huh?" It was a moment before he knew what she was talking about. "Oh - they uh... they'll see, uh..." He fumbled and ended up with, "How - how smart you are. And a real good, uh, worker. In, uh, in... jobs." What? What did that even *mean*?

Beth laughed slightly. "Well, thank you. I hope they do. I really hope so."

"D'you - do you like movies?" he found himself saying. Until it came out, he hadn't realized he was going to ask her out. He'd had reasons not to, and until that moment, they'd seemed like good reasons or at least reasons worth some consideration. But now he realized they weren't reasons, they were excuses, and what was more, he really wanted to go out with Beth. He really, really wanted to go out _on a date_ with Beth. More than anything else, he wanted to keep holding her hand for as long as he could - days, if that was possible.

"Um -" Beth blinked at the complete change of subject. "Not... really." Launchpad's heart sank as much as if she was deliberately turning him down instead of just answering a general question. She went on, "I'm just pretty boring, I guess. Most new movies don't really do it for me, you know, they're all explosions and gore and... I just don't really... I'm not that interested in special effects."

"Oh yeah? Uh, I like movies. Some of 'em." Why was everything he said coming out sounding so stupid? "But uh, that's okay if you don't." That wasn't any better.

"Well, I like _some_ movies," she amended. "Usually older ones. I like stuff nobody else likes anymore, you know, classic old stuff."

Launchpad, who wasn't at all picky about what movies he watched and as a result had watched a bunch, perked up as he recognized opportunity. "Oh yeah? Like what? Old stuff like ten years ago, or old stuff like fifty years ago?"

"Fifty. You know, classic stuff, 'Gone With the Wind' and 'Casablanca' and the Manx Brothers-"

"Hey, 'Casablanca'? That's one of my favourites! And I like the Manx Brothers, too."

Beth seemed to come to life, she was suddenly so enthusiastic. "Wow, you do? I LOVE them! Especially 'Animal Soup', that's my favourite-"

"The Captain Spaulding song?"

"YES! And 'Hello, I Must Be Going'," she said, singing it just enough to suggest a tune.

"Gee, I didn't know we had so much in common!" he said, trying to make it sound natural and painfully aware that he had failed. Beth, however, seemed to not be aware

at all.

"I know, me neither! That's so funny!" she said, still looking and sounding delighted. "I don't know anyone else who likes old movies."

The opening was there, and he dove for it. "Well, maybe we should get together, you know, watch movies sometimes. Together, I mean, like at your house or mine? On the TV."

Somehow she pieced the fragmented sentences together into what he had intended them to convey, which reaffirmed to him that she _got_ him and they were on the same wavelength and this was _right_, and she said, "We totally should! That would be so much fun!"

Launchpad stopped, and took her other hand in his, and it completed the circuit between them. "With popcorn."

"You have to have popcorn," she said, smiling, and it reached her eyes; he recognized the smile from his dream. He tried to swallow but his heart was in his throat and it stuck there. Then she said, "We should invite Drake, too!"

Launchpad could almost swear he heard an audible "POP", and something in him deflated. "Oh. Yeah."

"Does he like old movies? I guess if he doesn't it wouldn't make much sense to ask him. But maybe we could watch newer movies. I could always give them a try..."

"Well..."

The rest of the conversation went on in a similar vein until they reached her street, and Launchpad was keeping an eye out for the house number she'd given him. Then she lifted her face to the sky, as she'd done when they first left his house, and she smiled. "You know," she said, her eyes wide in the moonlight, "the one thing I really miss about not being able to see much at night? It's been a while since I've actually seen the stars."

He watched her, enchanted. "I can see 'em in your eyes," he said helplessly; it was true, the stars were swimming in her eyes like diamonds, and it made his chest ache.

Beth looked at him and smiled, and said, "That's funny."

They reached the sidewalk to her house, and he stopped there before she did; there was a slight tug at his arm as she kept walking, still holding his hand, before stopping and turning back to him. Now everything had changed again, and instead of holding her hand forever, he wanted to hold _her_; and it was never going to happen. They walked up the sidewalk, and she carefully navigated the three steps up to her door before trying the lock; then once the key had turned and the door had opened a crack, she turned back to him.

"Thank you _so much_," she said, relief evident in her tone. "I can't believe you did this for me."

"No problemo," he said, and thanked his lucky stars that his voice didn't crack.

He was getting ready to say goodbye when she took a step toward him, then reached out a hand; just as he wondered what she was trying to do, she touched his face - first his forehead, then down to and gently along his bill, before reaching his cheek. She leaned towards him. His chest constricted considerably but he leaned forward to meet her, then at the last second she shifted to the side and put her arms around his chest, leaning her head on his shoulder and embracing him.

This was unexpected enough that it took him a second to respond; and when he did, by putting his hands on her back and patting her a little awkwardly, she actually tightened the hug and pressed up against him _more_, nuzzling her face against his neck and sending goosebumps down his back. Then she capped it with a little "Mmmmmm," right up against the skin and feathers at his throat.

He stopped patting her back and stood completely still, his heart thudding painfully in his chest, until she loosened her arms a few moments later and slipped out of his embrace. He felt like something was being taken from him. She smiled and said again, "Thanks so much. If it wasn't so late I'd ask you in, but really, it's got to be what - 1:30 by now?"

"Uh-huh," he said, without any idea what he was agreeing to.

"Do you think you can get home okay? There are a lot of turns..."

"Uh-huh," he repeated. "Uh, I mean, I'll be fine. Nice night for a walk, right?"

"Right," she said, grinning. "Well I'll see you tomorrow. And we'll set up movie night." She pushed her door open and went inside, then turned back to smile at him once more. "Good night, Launchpad."

"G'night," he said, and waved as she shut her door slowly. He stood and watched lights go on and off in several rooms before turning and looking around, and realizing he had no idea how to get back home. And yet somehow, he didn't care at all.


	3. Act I, Chapter 3

**Darkwing Duck: Shake, Rattle, and Mole  
By Zebeckras**

* * *

Act I, Chapter 3

It was late. Very, very late, and even a city like St. Canard where nothing ever stopped completely was, regardless, very quiet and reasonably dark.

Beneath St. Canard's surface, however, things continued to move. Insects crawled; worms burrowed. And a few scouts on patrol reported to their leader.

"The test was successful, sir."

"And our instruments reported no disruptions at this level. The reinforced structuring seems to be holding."

"Excellent. We'll prepare now for tomorrow, and once all our resources are at full power we'll give St. Canard's surface dwellers the bumpy ride of their simple little lives!"

"Yes sir!" The subordinates saluted, and scurried back to their posts.

Alone, their leader chuckled to himself; there would be no stopping this plan, this time. He was on the verge of holding St. Canard in his hands... Several pieces worth at a time, in fact.

* * *

Beth slept through the first aftershock, and when she awoke during the second one, it was just ending and she'd been dreaming of a carnival ride. After a few moments of befuddled scrambling for her seatbelt she sat up in the bed and waited, listening intently to nothing. The rumble that had invaded the edges of her consciousness was gone and although a part of her mind was certain she'd heard it, it was now SO silent that she honestly couldn't tell if it had been imagination.

She slept fitfully the rest of the night, shooting upright at every sound, and when she checked the clock at 8 am she considered staying in bed for the full morning and possibly into the afternoon. Although she had to confess, that option was increasingly tempting every morning. What did she have to get up for? Rewriting her resume and waiting for phone calls and interview requests that didn't come, and hours and hours of daytime television. Oh yes, and this particular morning she had to search for her spare glasses so that she could see properly for a few hours before heading out to her eye exam and glasses fitting that afternoon.

Somehow she dragged herself out of bed and found the glasses, which turned out to be about seven or eight years old and thus in the old square horn-rimmed style she'd stopped wearing in the mid-'80s. She groaned and resigned herself to looking like even more of a geek than usual, at least for the morning, and set about getting ready for the day. She was nearly finished with her morning routine, with the radio on to accompany her as it did most mornings, when the news informed her that she hadn't imagined the aftershock early that morning. In fact, they were debating as to whether it was genuinely an aftershock, or an entirely different earthquake, itself.

Beth felt uneasy at the thought. What would repeated earthquakes mean, she wondered? That the city was about to crumble into the bay? It was an island... that was probably more possible than it would be if she'd stayed in Duckburg. WHY hadn't she stayed in Duckburg...? Too much to think about; she felt overwhelmed and again considered going back to bed, but it was nearing 10 am and she had a date to keep.

If you could call going out shopping with a pair of ten-year-olds a "date", that was. And she really had a pretty good feeling that you could not, which was probably for the best. She switched off the radio and gathered her things, then left for the Mallards' house.

* * *

The walk to Avian Way was generally quick, but Beth found herself slowing down more and more the closer she got to her destination and by the time she reached the right street, more than a half an hour had passed since she'd left her house. Her feet moved even more slowly up the walk, and she had to stop and gather herself before knocking on the door.

The door was answered by Launchpad, not Drake, and she was flooded with relief. Maybe she could actually make it through the day without being seen in these glasses by too many people who mattered. "Um - hi," she said awkwardly, as his eyebrows visibly went up at the sight of her.

Launchpad managed to restrain his expression into just a slightly-more-than-friendly grin, though it was hard, because his first instinct was to laugh. It wasn't that she looked funny, exactly, just - well, he was so used to her huge round frames and not only were these glasses square, the frames were solid, thick black plastic. She looked like she belonged in a lab coat in the early 1960's. "Oh hey!" he said brightly, to cover for his amusement, "didn't expect ya so early!" He held the door open for Beth to enter, and after a brief hesitation she stepped slightly into the house and stood just inside the doorframe as if she was ready to run at the first sign of trouble. She was just far enough inside to be considered in the house, but still close enough to the door that he couldn't close it, so he just leaned on the doorknob casually and kept grinning.

"Yeah, um, I'm going out with Gosalyn. Sh-shopping." She pointed to her glasses, and he nodded as if he was only just noticing them. "Y'know, when they broke last night... She said she'd help me pick out new ones. Something to get me noticed at my interviews, if I ever get any."

"Oh, well, Gos just ran upstairs to get new socks... she oughta be down in a sec. So... you're lettin' Gos pick out your new glasses?" he asked in surprise. "Uh, you sure-"

"I get final say in what I buy. And I already told her no neon colours. Besides, we're bringing Honker along."

Not that Honker was likely to keep Gosalyn in line, Launchpad thought. He nodded. "Well, just be careful. When Gos says she'll get ya noticed, she really means it." He reached toward her and touched the edge of the frame of her glasses. "You're really not keepin' those?" he asked, and she gave him a mock-glare. "But they're so... retro!"

This got a smile out of her, and she even put a hand to her face as if she was modelling. "Absolutely the latest in nerd chic!" she said.

"Y'know, I _was_ just thinkin', aren't those the kinda glasses they'd wear in a science lab about 30 years ago? I mean, if you wanna give a good impression for a science job..."

"Oh yes," Beth said seriously, nodding emphatically as she spoke, "I'm going out to get the hair gel and the pocket protector to go along with these. It's the only thing keeping me from my dream of being a rocket scientist."

"You could also be a rock star!" he suggested, and when she looked at him dubiously, he said, "What was that guy's name? The one who was in the plane crash? The Big Bipper?"

"Ohhhh," she said, pointing at in him understanding. "You're thinking of Ducky Holly. They were on the same plane."

"Right! Right, that guy! Didn't he wear those glasses too?"

Beth rolled her eyes. "Oh, woohoo, I look just like Ducky Holly. Well, I'm having the best day ever!"

He chuckled, and considered her face. Whatever it was that had possessed him the night before, it seemed to be over; he was perfectly at ease with her again, and didn't feel at all uncomfortable when he said, "Nah, actually, they make you look really cute."

For some reason Beth frowned, and looked at her feet. Then, with frustration evident in her voice, she said, "Look, I- I'm sorry but can we stop this now? I mean it's funny and all, definitely, I just - I'm - they're the only glasses I have and I haven't worn them since I was 17, and I thought I had some others but I don't know where I put them when I moved, and - well, believe me, I *know* how silly I look so we don't need to make jokes about it."

Launchpad was completely blindsided, and he realized too late that she thought he was making fun of her and had been since she'd arrived. "Wait - I was just -"

"It's okay," she said hastily, raising her head and smiling weakly, "I just, um... forget it. Really, let's just forget it, okay?"

She wouldn't let him apologize or explain, so he had to agree and just move on, with a general unfulfilled sense of guilt pervading him.

Gosalyn made her entrance at that moment, saving him from even more awkwardness. "Oh hey, Beth! Wow, new look." Launchpad made a valiant effort at signaling to her not to mention the glasses without Beth seeing him, but Gosalyn either didn't see or didn't know why he was shaking his head and waving his hands. She shrugged and turned her attention entirely onto her babysitter.

"Yeah, you can see why I need new ones," Beth answered with a laugh, as if nothing had happened. "Are you ready to go?"

"Sure - lemme tell Dad... Uh, Launchpad, is he here or...?"

Launchpad frowned a bit, thinking. "I thought he was upstairs... maybe he's in the kitchen..."

"Maybe you can tell him?" Beth said anxiously, edging her way out the door. "I-I think we should go so that we can get Honker and then catch the bus on time...!"

"Yeah," Gosalyn agreed, shooting Launchpad a wave, "you tell him! See ya! So," she said to Beth as they disappeared down the front walkway, "I was thinking maybe those funky cats-eye glasses..."

* * *

The bus ride to the mall was uneventful, so Gosalyn spent it visualizing a few ideas for Beth's new look and asking Honker for his input. Beth didn't seem to take to this particularly well, and as a result Gosalyn began to toss out increasingly odd ideas just to watch her babysitter squirm. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the nicest thing for her to do, but it was just so _funny_ to watch the expressions that crossed Beth's face. Plus, maybe teasing her with far-out suggestions would make it easier for Beth to loosen up with a few less-crazy ideas.

When they got to the mall, they had to go to the eye exam place first so that Beth could get her exam done before getting the order for the new frames in. Honker and Gosalyn sat in the front section of the store, which was supposed to look like a waiting room; but since the front window faced out to a view with photo booths and a temporary Halloween store, it didn't quite have a doctors-office feel.

Gosalyn shifted in boredom. "You'd think they'd at least have better magazines."

"Well, these are only three months old... Doesn't your dad always say that most waiting rooms never have any magazines that are less than five years old?" Honker asked.

"Yeah, but if the magazine is 'Eye Daily', how recent it is doesn't really matter," Gosalyn answered in disgust. She turned and addressed the woman at the counter, who was arranging a shelf of designer frames. "Hey! 'Scuse me! Do you have those contact lenses that make your eyes look all white, like zombie eyes?"

The woman frowned and turned away without answering.

"Did you see that?" Gosalyn said loudly to Honker, who tried to get her to keep her voice down. "I guess I won't be buying any from HERE even if they do sell them!"

"Um, I'm pretty sure they only sell those in costume shops, Gosalyn," Honker said. "She probably thought you were making fun of her."

"I'm a potential paying customer!" Gosalyn sniped, crossing her arms. "I'm taking my hypothetical business elsewhere! ...Hey, you wanna try on some of the glasses while we wait?"

"Um, uh, well-"

Fortunately or not, Beth came back out just then. "Okay, done!"

"Yeah? Did you pick out glasses without me?" Gosalyn asked, hopping up from her chair. Honker remained seated, but looked attentively at both of his companions.

"Oh, no, not yet. Don't worry. No, actually, maybe it's a good thing I broke my glasses last night because I had to get a new prescription and it turns out that my prescription has changed a little bit since last time so it's about time I got new glasses anyway... I mean I wouldn't have chosen _now_, ideally, you know, because I don't have a lot of money but I guess it's as good a time as any - so..." She ran out of steam, stopped, and just looked blankly at Gosalyn for a moment as though she was surprised by the silence. Gosalyn waited a second longer before speaking, just to be sure Beth was really done; that ramble hadn't had any point at the end of it. When Beth stayed quiet, Gosalyn asked, "So what, then?"

"Oh! Well now we pick out frames and I have them fill the prescription, and then we can go wander around while they get everything ready. And we can pick them up on our way out of the mall when we leave." She turned to Honker and smiled. "So - are you both up for giving me some feedback?"

"You BET!" Gosalyn half-shouted, and pulled Beth's arm towards the wall of sample frames in the corner. "And while you're at it, can you check and see if they sell those contacts that turn your eyes all white, like zombie eyes...?"

They looked about for a good fifteen minutes, with Beth hemming and hawing and ultimately shooting down all of Gosalyn's suggestions. "But the old ones were blue! What's wrong with blue?"

"Well, no, blue is pretty - it's just - I already said no neon colours, Gos."

"This isn't neon!" Gosalyn said, sounding affronted. "This is *electric* blue!"

she refused the cat-eye shaped frames too, and Gosalyn began to wonder why she'd even been invited along. When Honker quietly suggested that Beth try a pair of large round frames much like his own - and like Beth's old ones - Gosalyn almost lost it. "Those are almost exactly like the ones you _had_!" she exclaimed.

"Well... I like these!" Beth said, shrinking away from the ten-year-old girl's fury.

Gosalyn pouted. "I can't believe we just spent all this time so that you could pick out the same glasses you always had!"

"They're not the same!" Beth said, and looked helplessly at Honker.

Honker nodded. "They have a flexible bridge that helps keep them intact under harsh conditions-"

"RRRRRRRGH!" The noise that Gosalyn made effectively quieted the two bespectacled shoppers. Almost timidly, Beth made her way to the cash desk and handed over her prescription and the frame sample. The cashier handed her a form and a pen, and Beth began filling the form out.

"What's that?" Gosalyn asked, though she didn't really care.

"I have to place an order," Beth explained, without looking up.

"Oh. Oh, you didn't ask about the contacts," Gosalyn reminded her, and at that Beth *did* look up just long enough to raise an eyebrow, before looking back down at the form. "OH! HEY! That's it, that's what you should do! Get contacts!"

"I am not," Beth said firmly, "going to interviews with white zombie eyes."

"Not _zombie_ contacts," Gosalyn explained, "just regular ones. Right, Honker?"

"Oh... um..." Honker stammered, and couldn't quite get an answer out. Gosalyn spoke for him.

"He means yes." Beth, she noticed, looked dubious so Gosalyn said, "Oh come on. You said you wanted to stop blending in, right? If you're not going to buy flashy, easy-to-see glasses, just lose the glasses completely!"

After a moment, Beth sighed. "Okay. Fine. You did come all the way out here with me, and... why not. Maybe they will come in handy sometime. I'll get contacts too." She checked off a box on the order form, and returned the completed version to the cashier.

* * *

They got lunch in the food court next, and once she sat down Beth spent several minutes counting and then recounting the money in her wallet, frowning as she did. "I hope I get an interview soon..." she mumbled.

Gosalyn's mouth was full of cheeseburger, but she spoke anyway. "Just be sure you only spend money on important things!"

"You mean like zombie eye contacts?" Beth said with a sigh, and started eating her lunch. In between bites, she asked Gosalyn and Honker, "So did either of you feel the aftershocks last night? The radio said there were two but I only woke up for one."

"No," said Gosalyn with a sigh, sounding almost disappointed. "Did you, Honk?"

"Um..." Honker put down his food and finished chewing, then swallowed before answering. "I didn't feel anything, but this morning my parents were talking about it. They said if there's another earthquake we're going to go stay with my Aunt Trudy."

"In Twin Beaks?" Gosalyn sounded astonished. "All the way out THERE in Weirdsville?"

Honker nodded. "Well, Mom says that there were never any earthquakes THERE when she was growing up."

"Until yesterday, there were never any earthquakes HERE while I've been growing up," Gosalyn countered with unassailable logic.

"How far away is Twin Beaks?" Beth asked.

"It's a pretty long trip. But Mom and Dad are kind of, um, freaked out."

Gosalyn looked sympathetic. "Well, maybe there won't be any more earthquakes."

"Well gee, I hope not!" Beth said emphatically.

Honker nodded. "Yeah. Whether we have to go someplace or not."

"Stay away from the cabbages," Gosalyn said, and stuffed the rest of her cheeseburger into her mouth.

* * *

Gosalyn's idea was that they needed to go pick out an interview outfit in one of the nicer clothing stores of the mall, but Beth insisted on the fabric store instead. "I like to make my own clothes!" she said brightly. "It saves SO much money and plus I get them to fit just right."

Given the fact that none of Beth's clothes seemed to fit "just right", Gosalyn had less than complete faith in that statement. And, being Gosalyn, she said so. "No offense, Beth, but you look about two sizes too small for most of your shirts."

Beth fidgeted awkwardly as she directed them towards the fabric store. "I - I don't like things to fit too tightly. I feel sort of cut off. It doesn't matter how it _looks_, so long as you're comfortable, right?"

"Oh-kay, that might work fine for most of the time, but right now you WANT it to look different. Remember?" Beth was already walking, completely without hesitation, into the store. "Oh brother. Honker, help me out here, huh?"

"What can _I_ do?" he asked plaintively as she dragged him along. They caught up with Beth as she perused stacks of various patterns and cloths. She was actually humming to herself. "Isn't it great? It's like being in a candy store."

"A candy store where you have to do hours of really boring work to actually have any candy, sure," Gosalyn muttered. Her eyes fell on a roll of orange fabric with blue tiger-stripes. "Okay, if you have to make your own clothes, at least do something really crazy and buy something that's gonna get you noticed! Like this!"

Beth looked at it in horror. "Oh Gosalyn, _no_." She pulled out a roll of green. "I DO like this one though, what do you think?"

"But that's _exactly like the shirt you have!_" Gosalyn snapped. It was impossible to believe that this could be so utterly futile, but Beth, for all her doormat behaviour when it came to other people, was absolutely resistant to having her own life steered in any direction but boring.

Her babysitter frowned as if hurt, and clutched the fabric protectively. "Well, I like this colour," she said defensively. "Plus I was thinking I'd make a dress with it."

"Oh that's IT," Gosalyn said, pulling the roll of green cloth away and letting it fall to the ground. "Don't you even remember what you said to me last night? You said no one notices you! You said you need help getting their attention or else you'll never get a job or have anything happen to you. You _asked_ me to help you!"

Beth frowned and blushed a little. "Okay - look, Gos, I know that's all true but I'm _not_ going to make people notice me by looking ridiculous!"

"So figure out a way to do it WITHOUT looking silly! But don't say you have to do something and ask me to help you and then refuse to do ANYTHING differently! Take a RISK already!"

Beth was silent, but she nodded slowly. She closed her eyes and took a breath, and when she opened them again she was looking determined. "Okay. You're right. I'm going to do it! I'm going to be confident and take a risk and _make_ him notice!" She clenched her fist, and looked about the fabric stacks before pulling out a bolt of shiny, navy blue fabric. "_This_ one."

"That's the spirit!" Gosalyn cheered. Beth took off towards the cash registers, but doubled back and picked up the green roll of cloth too. As she headed again for the registers, she said almost apologetically, "I really do like this one."

Gosalyn turned to Honker and asked, "Did she say 'make _them_ notice' or 'make _him_ notice'?"


	4. Act I, Chapter 4

**Darkwing Duck: Shake, Rattle, and Mole  
by Zebeckras**

* * *

_A/N: Okay, last time I'll mention this, I promise. Since it doesn't really work at all. Please review. Please? It's kind of hard to put stuff out and get virtually nothing in response, and it took me a couple of weeks to work up the energy to post this (I had it done in mid-January). If I was asking for full critiques or if I was saying "I need to get at least ten reviews" I'd deserve to be shunned, but it would just be nice to have more than one person reviewing. Thanks._

* * *

Act I, Chapter 4

The glasses looked fine. Actually, if you hadn't known that she'd broken her old glasses, you'd probably never have even noticed that Beth _had_ new glasses. And although there was something reassuring about the continuity of her appearance, Beth did have to confess that even she was a little bit... let down, perhaps? After all, the night before she'd had herself convinced she was going to revamp her image and be more exciting.

Then again, she HAD walked out of the mall with two completely out-of-character purchases: the contacts, and the fabric to make her new dress. And there was no denying that she knew _exactly_ what pattern she was going to use for that dress, and that it was a drastic departure from the norm.

She dropped the kids off at their houses, uneventfully, and made it home by just after 1 pm. Determined to get to work before she lost her nerve and changed her mind, she dug out the pattern she was after, sat down at the sewing machine, and spent a marathon four hours doing nothing at all but working on the dress, except that there was one point when there might have been an earthquake, but she was too intent on the sewing to pay it much attention. When she'd finished, she could see all the corners she had cut and the mistakes she'd made, but they were minor; the question was how would it look when it was on?

And that meant that she had to try it on.

She stood up; her back was stiff, so she had to walk around the house a little bit so that she could get the kinks out. And of course, she really needed some water. Probably better to water the plants now, while she was thinking about it. Maybe, also, she should do some grocery shopping...

Okay, no. Get it over with. She made herself stop, and found a mirror. Addressing her reflection, she said, "Do you want to get his attention or don't you?"

She had to admit that she didn't. Deep down, a part of her honestly didn't want Drake to notice her. It was only that she DID want his notice and regard, too, and that outbalanced the urge to keep hiding. She knew that if she never did anything, she'd regret it... She'd be alone and miserable forever, and be asking herself why she was too shy and lame to do anything to change her life.

So. Fair enough. Time to go.

And if the dress didn't fit? Or what if it ripped, or it just looked plain awful? What then? Obviously she wouldn't be able to wear it; obviously she'd have to call the whole thing off. There was a part of her that was really hoping more than anything for this outcome.

* * *

"GOSALYN!" Drake yelled from the living room. "Stop tearing around up there, you're shaking the whole house!"

Gosalyn dashed down the stairs and stopped, staring at the ceiling. The shaking continued, and Drake looked at her, then at the ceiling, then at her again. "What exactly were you DOING up there?"

"It's not me, Dad!" Gosalyn said indignantly. "Beth said in an earthquake you're supposed to stand under a doorframe." She made a rush for the nearest one, which was to a closet, and braced herself against the wooden supports.

For some reason this gave Drake an urge to pause and stay where he was. "Oh she did, did she? BETH said so? And if she said that you should jump off a building would you do THAT?"

Gosalyn gave him an odd look. "That's kind of the _opposite_ of the advice she gave earlier."

"Yeah, well, I don't see ANY reason-" The quake picked up, and objects started falling off of the coffee table. Drake ignored them. "-to just go scampering off-" Several items crashed in the kitchen. "-and huddle in a doorway- GAH!" This was the point where he lost his footing and fell next to the couch.

"Dad? It's getting worse!" Gosalyn yelled, and it undeniably was; he could feel the couch edging towards him along the floor from all the vibrations, and the rumbling was getting so loud it was like a truck revving its engine in the living room. All Drake could think to do was wrap his arms around his head and hang on to himself.

A moment later it was lessening, he could tell. It took a while, but soon the house was still. He stood up carefully, and dusted himself off. "That... wasn't _so_ bad," he said.

"Uh-huh. Where's Launchpad? Is he okay?" Gosalyn was downright cautious as she gingerly stepped back out of the closet, and was still keeping a hand on the wall as if for balance.

"I think he was in the basement... I'll go see."

Frowning, Gosalyn said, "Honker said earlier that if there was another earthquake, his parents were going to pack up and go to Twin Beaks to stay."

Drake, halfway to the basement, turned around with his eyes wide and shining. "Who SAYS these earthquakes are bad things?"

"Dad!"

Once Gosalyn had left to go next door and check on her best friend, Drake poked his head down into the basement. "LP? Are you down here?"

There was silence for a moment, and then he heard a muffled, "Yeah!" Drake rolled his eyes and went down to investigate. Finding Launchpad buried in the middle of a big pile of laundry was, for some reason, not at all surprising.

"The washing machine overturned on you?" Drake guessed.

The pile of laundry shifted and Launchpad emerged at the top of it. "Uh, well, I was gettin' stuff outta the dryer, and the whole place started shaking, and I thought the ceiling was gonna fall on me..." He looked a little sheepish. "So I figured, maybe if I had something soft nearby to cushion the blow..."

The reasoning actually made sense, even if the execution of the idea seemed a bit ridiculous. Drake conceded, "That's actually not a bad idea." He extended a hand to his sidekick, who stepped out of the pile as neatly as he could, but dragged several socks after him. "Launchpad... were those ALL clean?"

"Uh... sorry. I kinda had to think quickly."

"Must've been a huge effort," Drake muttered, picking up a few items and tossing them into the nearest basket before giving up. "Let's just wash these over again. I think Gos's sports uniforms are in there, so a second wash can only help them anyway."

Once they'd set the washer to run a quick load, Drake said, "So what's up with the Beth Fanclub in this house lately?"

"Uh, what?" Launchpad asked quickly, and dropped the box of fabric softener. "You - y'mean me?"

"I mean you and Gosalyn and anyone who sets foot in the door. Suddenly Beth is Ms. Common Sense to follow during an earthquake, Gos is going out shopping with her - _without_ my permission, which I'm STILL not particularly happy with-"

"Aw, well, it's not like it's that different from Beth watchin' Gos at night, so I didn't think you'd-"

"I already went over this, Launchpad. A mall is _completely_ different from watching Gos in the safety of our own home." They started up the stairs and continued the conversation in the kitchen. "It's just... weird, all of a sudden everyone except me thinks Beth is the bee's knees. It's almost as if there was some... strange, hypnotic effect..."

Launchpad made a small noise in the back of his throat, and Drake turned to see his sidekick frowning.

"What?" Drake said defensively. "I didn't say anything except that it was weird! You have to admit, it is..."

Launchpad rolled his eyes. "Weird that people would like her when they get to know her?"

"...Maybe."

"YOU said she's not a supervillain. You still think that?"

To keep the peace, for the moment, Drake did think that. But he was always ready to revise his opinions. "Sure, LP, sure. I just said _weird_, not evil. Sheesh. Let's just clean up the damage from that quake, huh?"

Meanwhile, Beth was still coming by in a few hours. Again. Unnecessarily. He was unnecessarily paying her to come and unnecessarily watch his daughter, sit on his couch and invade his home.

The lesson that Drake took away from all this was that you should never try to bluff Gosalyn.

* * *

The evening came and there was a knock at the door. At this hour it was most likely Beth, and so when Launchpad opened the door and saw a beautiful woman in an evening gown there, he had no idea what to think.

"Hi," said the woman, and smiled.

He smiled back; she was a knockout. "Heeeey."

"Is- is Drake here right now?"

Her voice was incredibly familiar. Maybe she was from TV or something. He looked back over his shoulder, but Drake was still out of the room, so he answered, "I think he's in the kitchen... Uh, can _I_ help you with anything?" He leaned against the doorframe and tried to put on his most charming expression.

The woman's smile faltered, then returned even wider, and seemed about to laugh. "It-it's me. It's Beth."

Launchpad could feel his jaw drop, but he couldn't do anything about it. In fact, he didn't seem to be able to do much of anything except stand and stare at her. Several moments of awkward silence passed, and Beth just smiled patiently, then cleared her throat. "Um... can I come in?"

That reminded him that he was actually blocking the door, and he leapt out of the way. She stepped lightly up into the house, rubbing her bare arms and smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. It's kind of cool out there, you know, and I didn't really - I should've brought a jacket..."

Now that she was in the light he could see that it really was HER. How - where - what...? Everything about her, the smallest detail, snagged his eye and made him stare. Her arms were indeed bare, since the dress had thin spaghetti straps and a low neckline. Her neck was so _long_. Everything about her was long - long and slender and graceful. Talk about turning into a swan.

"Launchpad..?" she asked uncertainly, and he pulled his eyes off of the big picture and settled onto her eyes in response. Her enormous, innocent, questioning eyes. Oh, GOD. Just looking at her made his heart ache. Blushing noticeably, she asked quietly, "How... d-do I, I mean... do I look okay?"

He nodded, which was something of an effort just to coordinate his neck muscles with his thoughts. She blushed further. He realized he hadn't said a word since she'd clarified who she was, and he'd better do _something_ or else she'd start to wonder... well, he didn't know what she'd wonder, but he'd better speak. No sound came out on his first try, but he kept pushing, and after some stammering he managed, "No, uh - no glasses...?"

"I got contacts!" she said brightly. The smile lighting up her face was bright enough to fill the room. "And they're really WEIRD. I had to use this saline solution and at first it felt like something transparent was just sitting on my eyeballs. Which I - I guess is actually what's going on. I can't shake this worry though that one will slide up my eye and somehow get to my brain. It's making me kind of nervous."

Launchpad just nodded like an idiot, as if this was the most reasonable fear in the world for someone to have. So. Contacts. No more glasses, just contacts and beautiful eyes. And her hair was off her face, that was another thing he noticed. She was wearing barrettes in it - not cheap plastic ones but subtle, decorative ones. But still - _barrettes_. He hadn't seen a girl wear barrettes in her hair since he was ten. Why had it never occurred to him how appealing barrettes could be on a girl?

He still had no idea what to say, and from the way Beth was looking at him the ball was obviously in his court. If Gosalyn hadn't come into the room at that point, Launchpad had no idea what, precisely, would have happened. Once she came in, however, he just stepped aside and gratefully let himself fade into the background, out of Beth's notice.

"Hey, you're finally here! Did you feel the earthquake earlier? Remember how Honker said that his family was gonna leave, well, they did, and I'm..." She trailed off. "Are we... going somewhere tonight?"

Beth blushed. "Um, no - no, I... ta-da! This - this is the dress I said I'd make."

"You _made_ that?" Gosalyn said in astonishment. Beth nodded, beaming. "Well - wow... I guess... What kinds of jobs are you gonna interview for, exactly?"

"OH... no, this isn't for interviews! This is for, you know. Tonight. Getting Drake's attention."

Gosalyn's eyes popped. "Whoa, whoa, wait. WHAT?"

Beth instantly went into panic mode. "Is it too much? It's too much, isn't it?" She turned to Launchpad for verification of this statement, and gave him puppy-dog eyes which may or may not have been intentional.

He opened his mouth to reassure her and what came out was a choked-sounding, "You really made that dress...?"

As if she hadn't heard him, Beth turned back to Gosalyn. "I knew I shouldn't have worn this. I _knew_ this was a bad idea! I look all boney and weird, don't I! And my makeup is WAY over the top - I followed a magazine's instructions but it was from a few months ago and I'm sure it's all out of date by now-"

"Whoa, Beth-"

"Okay, it's all right, I brought a change of clothes so we can pretend this never even happened, just don't tell him I'm here yet and-"

"WHOA, Beth! You look fine, it's just..." Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. "WHY..?"

"I... do? Are you sure?"

With a sigh, Gosalyn turned towards Launchpad. "Tell her she looks fine." Launchpad made a kind of squeaking sound and nodded. "See? Fine. All I'M asking is, why would you wanna come _here_ dressed like this? I mean, get Dad's attention for WHAT?"

Beth was still pink in the face, but she was beginning to settle down some, and she nodded. "Well. I, because, I... Because I'm in love with him." She let her gaze drop to her hands as she clutched at the duffel bag that held her change of clothes, and she grew slightly pinker. "And I need to make him see... that I... I'm special. That I'm _here_ for him. And the way I'm doing that is by... by showing him the best I can be."

Silence met this, and then Gosalyn muttered, "Oh... boy."

Beth took a deep breath and let it out, then looked up at Gosalyn and Launchpad. "So. I'm going to get this over with. I-is he in the kitchen?"

"Well, yeah... but..."

"Okay. Wish me luck because I really have NO idea what I'm doing." She smiled and drew herself up, threw her shoulders back, and made for the kitchen.

Gosalyn stared after her, shaking her head. "Launchpad." He didn't answer, but nodded slowly after a moment. "Did YOU know she had the hots for Dad?"

After another pause, he said hoarsely, "Yeah."

"And did you _tell_ her about Morgana?"

A third pause, though shorter than the other two. "Uh, no."

"Didn't think so." Gosalyn sighed loudly. "Ohhhhh boy. This can't go well."

* * *

She got into the kitchen and he was making himself a sandwich. The door swung shut after her, bumping lightly into her back and sending her forward into the room with a small squeak. She recovered, leaned against the wall and tried to adopt a becoming pose - something that matched the dress, something elegant and posh, but inviting. She cleared her throat to get his attention. Experimentally, while his back was still turned, she slid one of the two straps down her shoulder. Immediately, she changed her mind and slid it back up, just as he shot a glance over his shoulder and saw her.

At first he just spared a quick look, then went back to his sandwich; but almost right away he did a double-take, and turned to face her. Beth took this as an encouraging sign, and she smiled widely. "Um. Evening."

"Yeah..." He narrowed his eyes, evidently confused, and stared at her. "Aren't you usually here earlier than this?"

Beth blinked; that was not a reaction she had expected, and it threw her off. She straighted up slightly. "Um, yes. I... I had some other plans, I'm sorry."

"No big deal." He gave her the once-over a bit more, cut his sandwich in half, and asked, "So what's all this about?"

She smiled innocently. "What's all what about, Drake?"

He pointed at himself and gestured all over, as if suggesting his clothes. "The get-up." Having asked the important question, he took a bite of his sandwich and watched her, waiting for the answer.

"W-well, what, this old thing? I only wear it when I don't care how I look!" she said with a laugh, which fell flat, because she was supposed to say that when he complimented her on it and she realized belatedly he had not done that. At all. She cleared her throat when he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Um, I mean - w-well... it's a... formal dress?"

"Uh-_huh_... And you're wearing it here tonight because...?"

She could feel her face starting to burn with humiliation. His confusion was understandable, and his questions perfectly harmless, but it felt like he was dragging her across the coals. "Well... um..." After Launchpad's shocked reaction, she'd thought... well, hoped... there would be something more. SOME kind of surprise or recognition, even if admiration was out of the question. But it was nothing. It was like he was seeing her without seeing her. She sank back against the wall again and shrank inward. "I... I guess I was... chaperoning a prom?"

"A prom. A high school senior prom?"

"Well yes. Well - no, those are in the Spring, aren't they? Yes. I think they are." It was always spring when her sister had gone to the prom - she'd been to three. Beth had gone to a school that hadn't held a prom, and she'd been convinced that she hadn't missed out, but the end result was that she knew next to nothing about them. "B-but this was for the high school... It's, um..." There was some kind of dance in the Fall. She knew it. Her sister had been queen of it for four years in a row. What was it... "Homecoming! I was chaperoning the Homecoming Dance."

"Ahhhh." Drake nodded and finished the first half of his sandwich. "Sounds like a blast."

"Oh yes. Lots of d-dancing. I-I love to dance, you know, I don't know if you..." She trailed off, but he didn't answer, so she tried a new direction. "Um, yes, it was very fun, they - they had contests and things."

"But it was over by 6 o'clock?"

Her efforts at lying stuck in her throat. Caught. Caught in her own ignorance. These dances DID start later in the day, didn't they? And they went until, like, 11 pm or something. She tried to keep a poker face going. "Umm, yep! Th-they moved the time s-so that the k-kids would, um, w-would stay, um, safe. F-fewer accidents?"

"Huh. Good thinking," he said casually. "Anyway, still got a busy night ahead of me, so..."

"Oh yes. Absolutely," Beth said, her voice catching in her throat. The only thing she could think to do to cover for it was keep talking and hope she didn't cry, so she just said everything that came into her head. "Bowling is very important, isn't it? You have to keep practicing or else you get rusty and the game falls apart. I think it's admirable that you're so devoted to bowling. I brought a change of clothes so that I don't have to wear this s-silly dress all night long. Thank goodness. It's cold. It's a very cold dress. I made it myself. I think I'll go put on warm clothes now and thank you for the conversation, because it was very enlightening."

He stared at her, looking almost alarmed. "Uh, right, my pleasure," he said as she turned and fled from the room.

* * *

From the couch, Gosalyn grumbled, "Good thing I didn't wanna eat dinner or anything tonight. How much longer d'you think they're gonna be in there?" Launchpad's answer was something like a muffled grunt, but it might have had a word in it. She stared in his direction. "Are you _okay_?"

He was sitting in one of the chairs with his head in his hands, his fingers tugging in his hair. "Mm-hmm," came the answer, half-heartedly. In truth, he barely had a thought to spare. How had this _happened_? When had it reached this point? How come he couldn't stop _thinking_ about her? No matter what else he tried to put into his head, it all came back to Beth. Mainly, what was going on in that kitchen right now.

She was in love with Drake. She was gorgeous, no man could _possibly_ resist that, and she was madly in love with DW and alone in the room with him. Part of him wanted to storm into the kitchen pretending he had no idea what was going on, just so he could break it up. The other part wanted to get up and leave the house and never think about Beth - or Beth and Drake - again for the rest of his life.

And the end result was that he couldn't move. The longer he waited, the worse it was, and the more he dreaded their coming back out together.

Meanwhile everything he tried to think of to take his mind off of it got invaded by Beth, like she was everywhere, and that was just _wrong_. He saw her as a little sister! Didn't he? Wasn't that how it had been? Sure, a harmless flirtation, which he definitely wouldn't engage in with a REAL sister, but still... it was innocent, right? Hadn't he been entirely platonic all this time? Hadn't he been... falling in love with her for weeks now? No... no way. He was NOT falling for her. This was just some weird, crazy mixup. It was the dress, or her eyes, or... something...?

There was a creak from the far end of the room, and Gosalyn said "Well, _finally_," and Launchpad shot to his feet. Beth was stalking with wide strides out of the kitchen, clutching her duffel bag. He found himself stepping forward and saying, "Oh hi, Beth, uh, so how's it goin'?"

"Be right back," she said quickly, and dashed past him, up the stairs. He scratched his head. That was weird. What was upstairs?

"Dad," said Gosalyn, standing up. Launchpad turned and saw Drake emerging from the kitchen with half of a sandwich in his hand. "Uh, what happened...?"

"Nothing. Small talk," he replied, sounding puzzled.

"Did you... talk to Beth?"

"Didn't I just say I did?" Drake was beginning to sound peevish. He took two large bites of his sandwich in quick succession, clearly trying to eat in a hurry. "We shud g't gong," he said to his sidekick.

Launchpad looked towards the stairs. It was obvious that things hadn't gone the way Beth had hoped... That explained the quick exit. He wondered if she needed someone to talk to... Maybe he should go up after her?

"Uh, but Dad," said Gosalyn, a touch of worry creeping into her voice, "did you... Uh, did she... what about her outfit?"

Maybe she needed a hug, Launchpad considered. Couldn't take more than five minutes to go up and give her a hug to make her feel better. No harm there, right?

Drake answered impatiently, "What *about* her outfit? She was chaperoning some kind of dance, she's upstairs changing now, and we should go before she comes back down! Launchpad, is there something up there or is your neck stuck?"

Or _maybe_, Launchpad pondered, he should go up and kiss her. Before she could have a chance to feel bad. Just swoop up, gather in his arms, bend her over backwards and kiss the heck out of her. THAT would make her feel better, right? Was it getting hot in here?

He turned back and noticed DW glaring at him. "Uh, what?"

"I said let's GO."

"Oh. Right." He sent another long glance towards the stairs again. Should he maybe just... Wait, did DW say she was _changing_? As in, her _clothes_? Then that meant right now - right this very second, in his own house - she might be...

He turned a deep shade of red and shifted his gaze to the floor.

"What is WRONG with you?" Drake said, audibly irritated.

"Dad?" Gosalyn asked urgently. "Did you LIKE her dress?"

"Oh, for crying out loud, what IS this? A fashion show? She looked like Beth in a dress!" He started for the transport chairs, then stopped. "Ah, shoot, I left those files from SHUSH upstairs. I'll just be a sec-"

Launchpad darted to the foot of the stairs and barred his way. "Don't even think it!"

"What?"

With his arms spread, Launchpad held his ground with determination. Nobody was getting up there as long as Beth was... He felt his face going red again, and he dropped his gaze to the ground once more.

Drake took a step back and addressed Gosalyn. "That's it. WHAT is going ON here tonight?"

"Uh, nothing Dad... Look, maybe you oughta just go while you have the chance, and worry about the files later?"

After a moment's consideration, Drake sighed. "Ooooookay fine. All of a sudden I have a very strong need to get outta here. See you tomorrow, Gos. Launchpad, come ON." He grabbed his sidekick's scarf and dragged him to the chairs.

They'd only been gone perhaps a minute and a half before Beth came down, looking subdued. She was in her usual outfit, her hair back in the usual ponytail, and her glasses were back in the usual place.

"What happened to the contacts?" Gosalyn asked carefully.

Beth lowered herself slowly onto the couch, and settled her eyes onto her hands. "Took them out," she said quietly. "They're just not really me, anyway."

"Well... they looked nice..."

"Thanks." There was a long pause after that.

When she realized Beth wasn't going to break it, Gosalyn debated whether or not it would be okay to ask. Well, it couldn't hurt, right? She tried to sound gentle as she started, "So... how'd it go?"

Beth let out a shaky sigh, and looked up from her hands and stared at the ceiling instead. After a long moment, she said, "He barely looked at me. I tried _everything_ I could and he still doesn't even know I exist."

Gosalyn didn't say what she knew to be true, that her father was plenty aware that Beth existed, and just preferred to pretend otherwise. She really felt weird finding out that Beth had a huge crush on her father, but still, her heart went out to her babysitter. Beth had tried really hard, and it hadn't worked; she was pretty obviously broken up about it, too. "Well... Do you wanna... I dunno, have a girl-talk thing?"

This got Beth to look at her, with an eyebrow raised. "Do you... actually know what a girl-talk thing is?"

With a shrug, Gosalyn confessed, "Not really, but I think it has to do with a lotta ice cream, and I can handle that. Besides, if it'd make you feel any better..."

Beth smiled slightly, and even gave a quick chuckle. Then she shook her head, and looked at Gosalyn with a renewed - though slightly dimmed - determination in her eyes. "Well... thanks. But I - I had one more idea I want to try first. And then ice cream, I promise."

"Okay!" Gosalyn flopped onto the couch next to her older friend, and bounced. "How about this time you tell me what the idea is in advance, though? Might save some time..."

"Fair enough," said Beth, "but you won't talk me out of it." She paused, took her glasses off and rubbed some unseen mark off of one of the lenses, then replaced them. "I want to go visit your father at work."


	5. Act II, Chapter 1

**Darkwing Duck: Shake, Rattle, and Mole  
by Zebeckras**

* * *

Act II, Chapter 1

Darkwing hated to admit to being bored, but bored he was. Thanks to the earthquakes, there was no other news on the radio and even the criminals seemed to be staying off the streets. Whatever happened to the good old days, he wondered, when you could count on a good riot to hit the city in times of danger...

Launchpad had been completely useless since they'd arrived at the Tower. Not that Darkwing kept him around for his great skills as a conversationalist or anything, but tonight the pilot was positively monosyllabic. Darkwing's efforts to bounce ideas off of him were met with a thick silence, and if Darkwing made any efforts to catch Launchpad's attention, he was met with a blank look as if his sidekick was just waking up from a deep sleep.

Since there wasn't much to be done, he'd just parked himself in front of the computer and pretended to be busy until Launchpad had briefly come to life and said he was going to do some maintenance work. So... now what, he wondered. The evening had no real direction, no particular shape taking form... Maybe SHUSH would contact him. Nothing much to do until that happened...

Sneaking a look around to be sure that Launchpad wasn't nearby to catch him, Darkwing opened a solitaire program on his computer and started playing.

The sound of footsteps was, at first, so slight and natural that he didn't pay any attention to it. By the time the footsteps had crept their way into his awareness, they'd also crept well into the sanctity of the Tower. He blinked, suddenly hearing it, and whirled around to see the two intruders.

One was Gosalyn, who looked sheepish. The other was - who else?

Beth Webfoot was staring around the inside of the Tower in apparent awe, her eyes wide behind her glasses, no sign of the out-of-character get-up she'd been wearing the last time he'd seen her. Darkwing jolted to his feet, switching his glare between the gaping adult and the child who should have known better than to let her babysitter come here; at the sound, Beth's attention shifted to him, and for a moment - just a moment - he swore he saw her smile in complete lack of surprise.

Then she went all amazed and gasping. "OH, LOOK Gosalyn! See? I _told_ you there was a light up in the window of this tower and you said you thought it was nothing, but I said 'let's go look' and here we are, it's DARKWING DUCK! Isn't that amazing?"

Gosalyn had covered her eyes with her hands and was looking pained. "Gee," she said in a forced voice, "who'd have possibly thought?"

Darkwing made a mental note to give a big "I-told-you-so" speech to Launchpad and Gosalyn later on, and he made a quick beeline towards the two visitors. "So sorry, ladies, but although I can certainly understand the urge to explore, ah, well, this - er - strictly _temporary_ headquarters is very much off-limits to the public..."

"Temporary?" Beth looked around again. "It really looks like you're settled in! Is that a kitchen up there-"

"No!" he snapped, and edged in front of her to block her line of vision. Turning to Gosalyn, he said testily, "Gee, little girl, I'm sure your father would be _awfully_ upset to know you've dragged your ill-advised babysitter out in such a way..."

"Oh, don't you remember Gosalyn Mallard, Darkwing?" Beth asked loudly. "Haven't you rescued her on several occasions?" Gosalyn crossed her arms and shook her head.

Darkwing felt his shoulders tensing. "Yeessss... now that you mention it... Gosalyn certainly does have a few more memorable traits that the hundreds of _other_ kids I've rescued... But really, Miss, there's not just not time to engage in polite conversation - I'm in the middle of an _extremely_ important case, and of course as I said, this hideout won't even be here in a few days so there's really no point in ever coming looking again-" She wasn't budging, so he tried the herding trick that had worked to get her out of the door when he'd first met her - just walking towards her slowly, getting her to back up on her own.

With a sigh, Gosalyn said, "Look, before you ground me forever, coming here was _not_ my idea."

Beth was not backing up, and in another couple of steps he'd be bill-to-bill with her. She just stood there smiling widely, so he gave up before he ended up in a physical situation he _really_ didn't want. Distractedly he answered, "Oh yeah, like it just popped into Beth's head to-" He cut himself off, coughed awkwardly, and said, "Ah heh, I mean, why on earth would _I_ ground you, young lady?"

Beth's smile widened, and she said, "W-well, I should point out that she's really absolutely telling the truth, Darkwing - it was my idea to come here. I - um, see, I know you know Gosalyn from having rescued her, and you rescued me that time too, which I'm incredibly grateful for by the way; but what you might not know is that I'm now _babysitting_ Gosalyn, isn't that funny? A-anyway, you see, Gos and I were out on a walk, and we had nothing else to do, a-and I said 'let's do something exciting!' And Gosalyn said, 'Like what?' and I noticed that there was a light on up in the tower on the Audubon Bay Bridge, so I said 'Let's go exploring,' and then _Gosalyn_-"

Darkwing sighed and wished he hadn't walked into this.

* * *

In theory, Launchpad was working on the Thunderquack. In reality he was staring past a wrench that was clenched in his hand, and his mind was back in the living room at his house. He wondered what she was doing now, and what would happen when he saw her again.

Maybe... if he didn't see her again for a while - like, a month - then this would all just... go away. That couldn't possibly be that hard, right? A month was what - thirty days? Four weeks? Sure, four weeks. No problemo.

If only he hadn't had that dream... If only her hair didn't smell like strawberries...

He sighed, and he could hear her voice in his head. Indistinct, but instantly recognizable. With a start, he realized that he wasn't imagining it; he _could_ hear voices - a woman's voice - within the Tower. But it wasn't Beth. It couldn't be Beth.

Could it possibly...?

His heart had already decided it was her, and by the time he'd rounded the corner into the area of the Tower that the voices were coming from, most of his head was filled with the sound of his own heartbeat rather than the voice.

And when he saw her, she was standing with her back to him, talking about something he didn't understand, something about going on a walk and seeing a light. He felt cold and hot at the same time. Even when she was facing away from him, he had her memorized - her posture, the way she sometimes waved her hands when she spoke excitedly, the way her hair swung between her shoulders; but she wasn't looking at him.

_Turn around,_ he thought. He willed it silently. She was laughing - he could hear it, and from the smallest side of her face that was just barely facing him, he could see it. _Turn around, please turn and look at me._

Slowly, incredibly slowly, as if she was responding to something she wasn't quite sure she heard, Beth did turn towards him. Or maybe it was only slow to him; maybe time had slowed down for him, like it did in movies. He couldn't even guess. All he knew was that when she turned to face him fully, when she saw him and smiled, everything made sense again. Like magic.

"Launchpad!" she said as he came closer. The lift in her voice suggested that she was surprised to see him, but he was more focused on the smile that seemed so welcoming. "Gosh, why are you here? I thought you'd be out bowling by now! Is Drake okay with this?"

"Uh, oh, well-" Launchpad, reaching her, stopped and tried to think of an answer. "Well, the, uh, the league closed tonight-" He abruptly realized he was still holding the wrench, which he had forgotten entirely in the past five minutes, and he looked at it like he wasn't sure what it was. "Uh, heh, lookit that. Where'd that come from?"

Beth looked at it and raised an eyebrow, then looked back at him in confusion.

That was the cutest face he'd ever seen. He broke out into a wide grin, and promptly dropped the wrench. "Oh - shoot - uh, lemme just-" He held up a finger. "Be right back."

Beth nodded, perplexed, as Launchpad dropped to his knees and seemed to have trouble picking up the tool. When he stood up, he laughed sheepishly and held the wrench up like a prize, then dropped it loudly onto a nearby table and leaned his palm against the surface. Apparently it was shorter than he'd expected, because he stumbled slightly before settling into a casual posture. "Soooo, uh, how ya been...?"

She felt beyond guilty; he was clearly a nervous wreck, obviously because of how she'd been teasing him. "I-I'm sorry," she said, sincerely. She turned back and addressed Darkwing, who had been watching the entire display with an expression that seemed almost as baffled as Beth felt. She clasped her hands and pushed her thumbs together. "This isn't me... This isn't how I wanted to do this."

Darkwing regarded her cautiously. "Do _what_, Miss Webfoot?"

She sighed and gave him a weak smile. "I already told you, you can call me Beth... Drake."

"Yeah, well I'd prefer... to- wha..." He slowed, and his mouth dropped open and hung agape.

Beth crossed her arms and hugged them, smiling quietly. "Look, it - it was really inevitable that I'd find out, I mean - I mean putting aside the odds of someone spending a significant amount of time at your house and _not_ getting some kind of an inkling, I also actually am - well - I'm really smart." It wasn't bragging if it was literally true, right? She hoped not, because she didn't want to sound arrogant. She turned and looked out of the window, still hugging herself. "I'm actually a _genius_, is the thing, at least that's what they said in school - I know working at a hardware store might not seem like the most obvious thing, but you know, it _was_ the perfect cover..."

There was a rustling sound and a kind of plastic/metallic noise, then a sound that had to be accompanying the displacement of air caused by an object very quickly coming into place near her head. She turned and found herself staring down the barrel of a large, black-and-purple gun. All the blood seemed to run out of her body entirely.

"DW!" yelled Launchpad, and at the same time Gosalyn cried, "Dad, hang on!"

Darkwing used both hands to keep the gun trained on Beth, and he never took his eyes off of her. To the others, he said firmly, "Let me handle this! NOBODY MOVE, understand? Put your arms up!"

Beth blinked, not certain which instructions to follow, and terrified to pick the wrong ones.

After a few moments' hesitation, Darkwing rolled his eyes. "_Beth_, your ARMS?"

"Oh right, okay-" She nodded rapidly and raised both arms immediately. From his position next to her, Launchpad did the same, and Darkwing groaned.

"_Not you_," he said, sounding aggravated. "Okay, everyone step away from Beth. YOU don't move," he nodded at Beth, who felt like just the motion of his head was enough to chisel a giant crack in her heart. Once Gosalyn and Launchpad were at his sides, he spoke again. "SO. I was correct in my calculations after all, you conniving caregiver!"

"Dad-"

"Belittled and disbelieved, instincts assaulted on all sides, nevertheless the tide has turned to show that _I_, Darkwing Duck, pinpointed the perpetrations by this pernicious au pair! So, what do you call yourself then, huh? The Nanny?"

"Wh-what?" Beth asked, her hands still reaching up for nothing; her arms were starting to ache.

"Y'know, your criminal name." Darkwing shrugged. "If you haven't got one picked out you're really not very good at this."

"Cr-criminal n-name...?" Beth stammered, her voice breaking. "You - you think I'm a _criminal?_"

"No he doesn't!" Launchpad said hastily.

"Yes I _do_," snarled Darkwing out of the corner of his mouth.

Launchpad hesitated, then said, "Well, I don't." Darkwing glared at him.

Beth barely heard most of that; she was struggling not to cry. "Wh-why would I be a criminal? Wh-what have I done to make you think...?"

"Well - everything!" Darkwing said irritably. "The palling around with supervillains, the... general... stalking... Oh! That costume tonight, that had to have been a supervillain costume!"

"Oh, please," Gosalyn muttered, and closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Dad, she's known for like, two weeks now."

"WHAT?" Darkwing snapped, and almost whirled around to point the gun at Gosalyn before remembering himself. "And just how long have you known how long she's known?"

"The entire time," Gosalyn shot back defiantly. "And she hasn't done ANYthing evil. She doesn't even cheat at Monopoly, for crying out loud."

"I don't buy it. *Every*one cheats at Monopoly." Turning his focus back to Beth, he said, "That doesn't prove anything. It just means she was laying in wait until the moment to strike-"

"Okay Dad, let's pretend you're right. If you are, it means she had two weeks to put together an evil plan, and _this_ is what she came up with," Gosalyn said loudly.

Darkwing blinked. He stared at Beth, and Beth stared back, then shrugged. After another moment, Darkwing let the arm holding the gun drop to his side. "Good point."

Beth breathed slightly more easily. "D-does this mean you-?"

"Not so fast," Darkwing said, and pointed a finger at her. "What if you just want us to believe you're not going to do anything with this, to throw us off track and lull us into a false sense of security?"

Her brow furrowed, Beth asked, "Isn't that... awfully complicated?"

"Or is that just what you want us to think?" Darkwing shot back.

"DAD!" yelled Gosalyn, and he finally stuck the gun into his cape.

"OKAY, okay, she's not a supervillain." He looked like he was on the verge of sulking. "But you have to admit I had good reason to think that."

"Sure, Dad. Sure." Gosalyn didn't sound the least bit sincere, but she patted her father's arm kindly.

Launchpad took Beth's hands, which were still elevated but were shaking slightly, and pulled them down gently. "I think it's okay to drop 'em," he said quietly, and she smiled at him in relief.

"Okay then," said Darkwing sourly, "what, pray tell, brought you all the way out here?"

Beth looked at her hands, which Launchpad had forgotten to let go of, and removed them gently from his grasp. "Well... I..." How much should she lay on the line, she asked herself? There was so much to lose... She wasn't sure she could just come out and say it. "I... just wanted you to... _notice_ me."

"And then?" He raised an eyebrow; every aspect of his body language was unfriendly.

She swallowed, and said meekly, "And then... maybe we could be... friends?"

Drake - Darkwing, rather - looked at her with an expression that kind of suggested he might have just swallowed a bug by mistake. Finally he said curtly, "I'm not in the business of making friends, Miss Webfoot. Go home. Stay safe."

She took two steps backwards, feeling like she'd been kicked in the stomach. Launchpad reached after her, as if to catch her if she fell. "Aw, hey - don't go like that..."

"Geez, Dad," Gosalyn muttered as Beth turned to go.

Beth turned back, her head low, and addressed Darkwing's feet. "Um. I-I'm sorry to have... caused all this, um, confusion." She paused, then repeated, "Sorry."

"Forget it," Darkwing said. "We can forget all this ever happened and never speak of it again. Goodbye."

Nodding, still looking at the ground, Beth said, "I guess... s-since this is just a t-temporary hideout... i-it won't matter if I tell accidentally tell my - my parents... or my sister, or - or the news or anyth-"

"OKAY, what do you want?" Darkwing said sharply.

She took a deep breath. "P-Please let me stay here tonight with you guys. JUST tonight." She risked looking a little higher than his feet, and got as far as his chest. His arms were crossed tightly, she noted. She didn't dare look any higher.

Tensely, he said, "And do what?"

"A-and see what you, um, do. M-maybe I can help. I-I'm really smart. Honest." She cleared her throat, and shrugged slightly. "And, and m-maybe we can j-just... get to know each o-other."

Darkwing groaned slightly, and she saw one arm shift as the hand connected to it lifted, probably to his forehead. Then with a sigh he said, "One night and that's it? You never tell ANYONE else, or ask for any other favours?"

"I promise," she said, daring a look at his face.

He was looking at her directly, and he looked somewhat less angry than she'd expected. It wasn't a great comfort, but it was something. She tried a smile. He didn't return it, but he did stick his hand out to her in an offer to shake her hand. "Deal."

* * *

This felt like the single longest night of Darkwing's crimefighting career. He'd checked the clock at least five times in the past half hour alone, and Beth hadn't even been in the same room as him for most of it. He'd tried reminding himself that all he had to do was get through this evening and he'd be rid of her, but it didn't seem to work - especially not when Launchpad insisted on showing her around the Tower and telling her how _everything_ worked. What was THAT about? Since when did this woman need more information on his daily life?

On the other hand, at least she wasn't sitting around _watching_ him anymore. Instead of the ego-feed it should have been to have a huge fan sitting close by and adoring him, he was completely on edge just being near her. Gizmoduck and Beth Webfoot: if they ever teamed up, they'd be a deadly force just for the sheer aggravation they produced.

He swung around in his chair to face Gosalyn, who was using the big monitor for video games. "Thanks again, Gos, for doing such a great job protecting my secret identity. Be sure you tell the mailman tomorrow, I've heard there are a few people left in the city who don't know it and he should be able to help spread the word."

"Oh, get over it, Dad. The only person I've ever told was Honker, and even he half-guessed... Beth figured it out on her own. And really," she threw over her shoulder, keeping an eye on the game as she spoke, "you _were_ being way obvious. Bowling league? Seriously?"

Darkwing crossed his arms and sulked. "That was _Launchpad's_ idea. MY idea was not to hire her in the first place, remember? But nooooo, Launchpad's just gotta get his girlfriend a job!"

In the next room, just out of earshot, Launchpad was finishing up a brief tour of the Tower. Beth was pretty impressed by the Tower, though she was especially intrigued by the way the transport chairs worked - although she refused to try them out, for some reason. He'd saved the Thunderquack for last, and when he showed it off, she was suitably and satisfactorily impressed.

"WOW! Drake has a personal plane?"

"Yep!" he said proudly, and patted the plane on its bill. "This is the Thunderquack! She's somethin', huh?"

Beth hesitated, then reached out and touched the edge of the bill. "This is amazing!"

Launchpad rested an elbow on the plane, leaning on it a bit more than may have been necessary. "Heh, y'know, I made this plane myself," he said casually.

She looked astonished. "You DID? YOU made it?"

Grinning, he nodded. "Yeah, outta spare parts at my old hangar... Took a lotta elbow grease," he added, and tried to subtly flex his arm and maybe draw her gaze off the plane and onto him, but she was staring in rapt admiration at the Thunderquack. Well, he could bask in her appreciation of that, too.

"It's beautiful," she said, and then more softly she added, "It looks _just_ like him."

Oh. Launchpad stood up, feeling thwarted and foolish. "Well, yeah, that's what I was goin' for..." He resisted the urge to sigh, and almost immediately was buoyed again by the simple fact that she was here. "So, anythin' else you wanna see?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said, looking around. "Not really... I guess we can get back to Drake. You know, that's really lucky that his sidekick is a pilot!" she said as they headed back to the others.

"Well, y'know, I'm not _just_ a sidekick... or just a pilot, I mean, we're all pretty heroic around here... Did I ever tell ya I used to know Gizmoduck?"

"Really? Wow, how do you meet all these people?"

Darkwing cleared his throat irritably. "Enjoying yourself, Miss Webfoot?"

"Please, please call me Beth," Beth said earnestly, almost desperately. "And yes! I'm having a great time! Though, um..." She trailed off and approached him timidly. "Wh-what are you doing? I-I mean... I'm really interested in... whatever you're doing."

"It's top secret," said Darkwing snappishly, and turned away from her to tap on the keyboard.

Instead of backing off, Beth appeared at his elbow, looking at his computer terminal. "This is a really big computer. I bet it does _everything_."

"Mmph," he returned noncommittally.

"Is it normally this quiet for you guys?"

Darkwing's shoulders stiffened. "NO, it is not. It seems people are laying low because of the earthquakes."

"Or they've just bailed the city, like Honker's family," Gosalyn suggested, without turning from her video game.

"Oh... right," said Beth uncertainly, and fell silent. Darkwing was sure that wouldn't last. Sure enough, after a moment, she cleared her throat. "A-about the earthquakes... N-not to tell you what to do, but... d-do you really think this is the safest place to be right now? I-I mean..."

Darkwing sent a quick glance upward to eye his sidekick, who was clearly focusing on everything Beth said. He rolled his eyes again. "I think there is NO place safer than Darkwing Tower," Darkwing answered firmly, leaving no room for dispute.

Beth cringed, but surprisingly - or maybe not, considering how hard it seemed to be for her to shut up - argued her point. "W-well, I mean, there m-might be an aftershock, and... and... You know?" She looked at everyone in turn before returning her gaze to Darkwing. "Um, okay, well - have you ever seen any footage of what happens to bridges in a big earthquake...?"

Everyone was looking at her now, even Gosalyn. "I don't... think so," Launchpad answered.

"Oh. Um. W-well, have you guys ever seen... um, you know how at some, um, car sales lots they have those sort of... inflatable guys and they, um, send air through them and make them dance...?" She waited a second, then demonstrated halfheartedly, waving her arms around briefly and leaning back and forth. Darkwing raised an eyebrow, and she stopped. "I-it's kind of like that," she said quickly, sounding embarrassed.

"Keen gear, that sounds COOL!" Gosalyn said excitedly. Beth looked horrified.

"Oh but it's NOT- it-"

"Listen, _Beth_," Darkwing cut in coldly, "I'm sure that it looks very scary but there's no reason for us to panic and do something needless like lock ourselves in our homes."

"But-"

Launchpad leaned down towards him and said in a loud whisper, "DW, are you sure this isn't something we might wanna listen to?"

This just increased his determination to ignore any advice from Beth. "You know, I'm sick of being second-guessed here! I think after all my years of crimefighting I know a thing or two about earthquakes!" Then he sat back and dared someone to point out how little sense that made. No one did. He was slightly disappointed.

Beth, instead, said, "Um - okay."

A thick silence hung over the room for a moment, and then Launchpad said loudly, "Hey! How 'bout we go out on patrol? That'll get us outta here for a while an' give us something to do!"

"I'm SO up for that!" Gosalyn shouted, scrambling to her feet and leaving the game controller cast about the floor. "Maybe we'll uncover a huge supervillain crime ring!"

Even though Darkwing knew that getting out of the Tower would probably be a good thing - just to cut through the boredom, and NOTHING to do with any hypothetical earthquakes or aftershocks that Beth was so nervous about - he couldn't bring himself to get behind the idea. It was so clearly being suggested just to please her, and it was DARKWING'S decision where they went and when. NOT Beth's.

However, Beth said, "Oh, I don't know, I mean... I-I kind of like it being slow, and... A supervillain crime ring? Really?"

Darkwing saw his chance and pounced on it. "Ohhh, that's too bad, I was just about to say that we really _need_ some excitement! And after all, that's what crimefighting is - excitement - of course you're free to go home if you don't like it..."

Beth paused, then shook her head. Rats. "Wellll, I mean, I'm not here to tell you what to do, I just... want to hang out... And I'm sure we'll be safe with you around." She smiled brightly at him, so obliviously that he ground his teeth together in frustration.

Launchpad practically bounded to the Thunderquack, not unlike an oversized puppy getting ready to go on a walk. Gosalyn was on his heels, and Beth and Darkwing both took their time in getting to the plane. Beth hung back even more once everyone else had reached the plane, and looked at it in distress.

"You need a hand gettin' in?" Launchpad offered, and extended an arm.

Beth considered his offer for a moment, then shrank away. "I, um... I've never flown in a plane before," she said quietly.

"Really?" Launchpad sounded far too excited by this revelation, and Darkwing covered his eyes and grimaced. "Well hey! This'll be great, then!"

After a quick glance at the plane, Beth shook her head. "I just... have a kind of... problem with heights."

Launchpad was giving her puppydog eyes. "I'll be real gentle," he said beseechingly.

"Now now, let's not force anyone to do anything they don't want," Darkwing said reasonably. Beth looked at him gratefully, and he knew he was on to something.

"I-I'm sure you're a great pilot," she said hastily to Launchpad. "I mean - I just, I've never..."

"First time for everything!" Gosalyn called from the back seat of the Thunderquack.

"I promise," said Launchpad gallantly, "you'll have a great first flight!"

"And if you stay here, you might get squashed in an earthquake!" Gosalyn added. Beth went slightly pale, and took Launchpad's hand. He boosted her up into the plane, insisting that she sit in the front passenger seat, and got himself seated and ready in record time.

Darkwing sat in the back, alternating between sulking and fuming. Gosalyn regarded him levelly. "Dad, really, you're making something out of nothing."

"YOU don't know ANYTHING about it," he said peevishly, and lowered his voice just enough that he wasn't quite sure if Beth could hear him or not, and didn't care either way. "She's getting in the way of EVERYTHING, questioning every single thing I do... Launchpad's acting like a crazy person..."

"I think it's kind of cute, actually," Gosalyn said, grinning slightly.

"Cute? What's CUTE about this? Whose sidekick IS he exactly?"

"Oh, Dad, lighten up! I think he's got a crush on her."

Well, that _would_ explain a lot. He'd like to think that even Launchpad would have more taste than that, but he couldn't deny that there was no evidence whatsoever to support that idea. They both paused and watched as Launchpad acquainted Beth with the controls of the plane.

"See? It's pretty easy." She nodded, staring at the buttons and steering wheel with an expression that suggested she was trying to memorize them. Launchpad pointed at a red button and said "Now, push that."

"What's that do?"

He looked completely innocent. "Gee, I dunno. Let's push it and find out."

Beth gave him a doubting look, but cautiously reached over and pushed the button. The engines roared to life, and she jumped. "EEK!" She held her hand over her heart and looked at him, grinning and wide-eyed. "Did - did I just start the plane?"

"You did!" Launchpad looked utterly delighted. "Wow, how 'bout that?"

"AHEM," interrupted Darkwing, and both Launchpad and Beth jumped. She, surprisingly, was the one of the two to look guilty, whereas Launchpad just grinned cheerfully. "So are we _going_?"

"You betcha, DW!" To Beth, he said, "All systems go! Hang onto your seat!" She did, with white knuckles, and they took off.


	6. Act II, Chapter 2

**Darkwing Duck: Shake, Rattle, and Mole  
by Zebeckras**

* * *

Act II, Chapter 2

Beth's eyes were squeezed shut and she was clinging to the handle on the door with both hands, even after they'd reached a level altitude. Gosalyn poked her in the back of the head. "We're alive," she said. "You can let go now."

She opened her eyes, but kept her grip on the handle. "My ears are popping," she said in a stunned voice.

"Yawn," said Launchpad. "If that doesn't help, I've got some gum around somewhere..."

"Aren't we up awfully high, LP?" Darkwing asked, peering out the window. "This is _way_ too high to pinpoint any criminal activity."

"Oh, uh, I guess... I just wanted to show Beth the view," Launchpad said, semi-apologetically.

Beth peeked cautiously out the window of the plane; it was dark, but the lights from the city blinked up at them as they swept above the skyline. She smiled slightly. "It _is_ awfully pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Launchpad agreed, without bothering to look away from her. "I'll take us down, though."

"Oh, don't do anything on _my_ account," said Darkwing, heavy with sarcasm.

"Maybe I _am_ being a little-" She stopped as she turned back to face Launchpad, and looked alarmed when she saw his full attention on her. "Sh-shouldn't you be, um... l-looking where we're going?"

He turned back to face forward, and shrugged. "Nah, it's OK. There's pretty much nothin' to crash into up here." She didn't look very relieved.

"Of course if there is, he'll find it," Darkwing said.

Beth jerked around in her seat to look at him. "What...?"

Launchpad laughed nervously. "Aw, he's kidding! I haven't crashed in weeks!"

"_What?_" Now she jerked back to face Launchpad, who chuckled again.

"I mean, months. Years. Y'know, it's been so long, I can't even remember how long it's been!" He turned his attention back to the windshield and looked studiously forward, carefully bringing the plane closer to the city while avoiding the highest of the buildings.

Turning around in her seat, Beth addressed Darkwing. "So... now what?"

"NOW we look down on the slumbering city to survey any signs of suspicious situations!"

"Ohhh." Beth nodded. "Does that usually work? From all the way up here?"

"You're talking to a crime-fighting professional with the eyes of an eagle," Darkwing said haughtily. "Of course it works."

"Except when it doesn't," Gosalyn put in. "Lotsa times we use the Ratcatcher to patrol, but we wouldn't all fit in there tonight."

"Of course," Beth said agreeably.

"The Ratcatcher's DW's motorcycle," Launchpad explained.

"Oh! Got it." Beth smiled. "Wow, a motorcycle! With a name and everything! I can't believe you're really a superhero. That's _so_ incredible."

Despite himself, Darkwing couldn't help but play up his dramatic image. Beth Webfoot or not, a fan was a fan. "Yes, I realized early in life that there was no use fighting my true calling... The world needs more heroes to defend it from the denizens of darkness."

"Gosh," Beth said in an awed whisper.

"Uh, so hey, DW! Any ideas about where we should look?" Launchpad interrupted, a little louder than was needed inside the tight quarters of the Thunderquack. "'Cause I was thinkin', y'know, maybe we should investigate the earthquakes! Maybe they're part of a sinister plot."

The very idea was nonsense. Darkwing was opening his mouth to politely tell Launchpad to keep his ideas to himself, when Beth spoke first. "Oh, that's not likely. Earthquakes are usually caused by the shifting of tectonic plates underground, you can't... I mean, I don't think anyone just can _make_ them happen. I mean, not without a huge explosion or something we'd be able to see or hear."

"Y'know, that's what I used to think too, but back when I was livin' in Duckburg a few years ago there were a buncha earthquakes all at once, an' it turned out they were bein' caused by these little guys who lived underground! They'd roll themselves up into balls and crash into walls... What were they called again...? Ter... Terry..."

Gosalyn suggested, "Terriers?"

"Oh, yeah. A bunch of underground terriers are causing earthquakes," said Darkwing. "Let's hope they don't team up with the flying chihuahuas or we might have a major crisis on our hands."

"Nah, not terriers... Terra...furbies?"

Beth, looking almost pained, said, "Um, Launchpad, did you _see_ these little... rolled up people?"

"Nah, but my friends did, an' they told me about 'em. And the earthquakes were real."

"I remember those earthquakes... But..." She looked sympathetic. "I think your friends were having fun with you. People can't make earthquakes by crashing into walls."

Launchpad blinked. "No way! Mr. McDee never has fun!"

"Are you suggesting my sidekick is a liar?" Darkwing asked sharply, and Beth gasped, turning between the two of them with a horrified look on her face.

"N-no! Not at all, really! I-I just meant... well... it's not scientifically _likely_... I-it just seems more likely that someone gave _him_ bad information... I'm so sorry!" she finished, addressing Launchpad. He smiled and brushed it off. She turned back to Darkwing. "W-well, I mean... do _you_ think the earthquakes are a plot?"

He hadn't expected that, so by accident he responded truthfully. "What? No, that's ridiculous! Who in their right mind..." He trailed off belatedly, cleared his throat, and said, "Of course anything _is_ possible, but we couldn't jump to any conclusions without, uh... What I'm trying to say is that ALL possibilities should be entertained..."

"So we should investigate?" Gosalyn asked, and smiled innocently.

"We will _keep an eye out_ for anything that might _indicate_ a reason to be suspicious..."

"What about that?" Gosalyn pointed out the window, to the left of the plane, where a large construction vehicle was moving slowly across the ground. "Kinda dark for roadwork, isn't it?"

She had a point. Darkwing straightened his fedora and said, "Take us down, LP." Turning to Beth, he said, "So you see, it's as I said - my eagle eyes have again apprehended an apparent activity of evil!"

"Hey!" said Gosalyn.

"Wow," Beth breathed.

* * *

They landed some distance away from the machinery. "Okay. I don't have to tell anyone here to stay low and stay quiet... right?" Gosalyn rolled her eyes at even being reminded, and Launchpad nodded cheerfully. Beth looked uncomfortable. With an eyebrow raised, Darkwing said, "Maybe you'd better stay here and watch the plane, Beth."

For a moment, Beth wasn't sure what to do; she was certain Drake was going to go on hating her unless she could prove that she wasn't afraid of everything. Which, of course, she was, so this was an exercise in futility... but she could at least _try_. On the other hand, she knew nothing about crimefighting and didn't really want to be involved in it. She'd be happier staying with the plane, he'd be happier if she stayed with the plane... Reluctantly, she nodded and stayed in her seat as the others disembarked. Launchpad turned back and waved, and she gave a tiny wave and smile in return as he went on his way.

The area was mostly empty, mainly composed of heaps of dirt; there were plenty of places to hide behind. They got as close as they dared to the huge vehicle, which up close was apparently a digging machine. It had a huge cone-shaped drill at its front, and just now it was idling. The noise was awful.

Darkwing peered around the edge of the dirt pile they were crouching behind for close to a minute before turning back to his sidekick and his daughter. As quietly as he could while still being heard, he said, "It's a subterranean vehicle all right. Looks like our earthquake theory might pan out after all."

"Who's driving it? Is it the Fearsome Five?" asked Gosalyn.

Darkwing shook his head. "No sign of any of the big names, Gos. I can't see much of our driver, but he's wearing a mining helmet and an overcoat. Sound familiar?"

"A mole?" Gosalyn guessed.

"There's only one underground overlord in St. Canard who's got the megalomaniacal machinations to mastermind a maneuver like this one! I'll stake my reputation that the one behind this is that moronic mole, Moliarty!"

* * *

"Awaiting orders, sir," said the sentry behind the controls of the digger. "Position six out." He let go of the button on the walkie-talkie and awaited further orders. The other positions from around the city reported in, and when everyone was heard from, Moliarty spoke.

"Excellent! On my signal, begin your coordinated excavation from the outside-in! Remember, don't go past the checkpoints; when you reach them, disembark and take cover. _This_ earthquake will not only knock some fear into the surface dwellers - it should chase them all out of the city entirely!"

Then he laughed for a while; and when he was finished, he said, "NOW!"

* * *

The idling engine roared to life, and Darkwing rushed back to the side of the dirt pile to get a look at what was going on. The machine was moving again, towards the side of the nearest hill. The drill on its end was spinning. "It's on the go!" Darkwing shouted. "Back to the Thunderquack! Now!"

"H-how are you going to stop him?" Launchpad asked when they reached the plane, boosting Gosalyn into the back.

Beth looked startled. "What happened? Stop who?"

"We can't stop him - yet," Darkwing said, ignoring Beth and buckling himself in as Launchpad started the plane. "That thing is huge and on the move."

"Wait, what thing?" Beth looked urgently between everyone, but no one could take the time to explain.

"So what is the plan, then?" Gosalyn asked as the Thunderquack warmed up. The machine disappeared into the earth. Before Darkwing was able to answer, they felt the start of vibrations, building from underneath them.

"It's an earthquake!" yelled Gosalyn. Beth clutched at the seat.

"Hang on," Launchpad said, flicking a few more switches; the plane took off, and soared into the sky.

Darkwing looked grim. "Take us back down, LP. The only way to get to the bottom of this is to _go_ to the bottom. We're following him."

"COOL!" shouted Gosalyn.

"What?" Beth yelped. "You're not - you can't go underground during an earthquake!"

"I think," said Darkwing, slinging his cape over his shoulder, "you're looking into the wrong line of work, Miss Webfoot." He grinned darkly. "Launchpad - let's get dangerous!"

Launchpad looked from Beth, who was giving him a pleading look, to Darkwing. Then he nodded. "You got it, DW. We'll be fine," he added to Beth, and took the plane into a dive, aiming at the huge hole left by the digger.

The initial descent was not so bad, even if it was dark. Launchpad, after a couple of false tries, managed to get the plane's floodlights on.

For Beth, that made it worse.

Everything was illuminated - especially the huge rocks and clods of earth that were being loosened by the earthquake that was still going on. _Especially_ the one right in front of them, which the plane was barrelling towards. She couldn't keep herself from letting out a shriek.

"Hang on!" Launchpad said, and turned the steering wheel sharply. In the tight space there was just enough room for them to avoid the rock. Unfortunately, there was another one immediately ready to take its place, and another after that. Launchpad grit his teeth and took the plane into a zigzag flight pattern. Beth, meanwhile, covered her eyes and screamed.

"Hey! Beth, calm down! HEY!" Drake's voice cut through her yells, but wasn't quite enough to quench her panic; she kept screaming. He looked around at the others. "Can somebody shut her up?"

Launchpad took one hand off the steering wheel to pat her on the shoulder, and she responded instinctively, throwing her arms around him in terror. He grinned and pulled her closer, continuing to navigate the tunnel with only one hand on the steering wheel, until Darkwing pulled her away.

"BOTH hands on the wheel!" he snapped. Unfortunately, when he grabbed Beth by the shoulders, she just turned around and clung to _him_ instead. Well, at least she wasn't screaming anymore.

"Hey," said Launchpad cheerfully, "I think we're almost through!" Darkwing had just enough time to notice that the light from the Thunderquack's floodlights seemed to be spreading farther than it had before, and then they emerged from the tight tunnel into the dimly-lit beginnings of a wide cavern.

There were no rocks to be seen, and Launchpad was able to squeeze a decent, if rocky, landing out of the end of the descent. They sat completely still for several minutes, during which Beth continued to cling to Darkwing for far longer than he thought was necessary. "Ahem...?" he finally said. She pulled herself away as if she'd been burned.

"S-sorry," she mumbled.

"Hey, no more earthquake!" Gosalyn said brightly, and they all realized it was true; the ground that the plane had landed on was completely still. "Should we get out?"

"Absolutely," Darkwing agreed, and they lifted the canopy of the Thunderquack and hopped out.

As Launchpad helped Beth down, he said, "Sorry for the rough ride. It's not usually that bumpy."

"Th-that's okay. I mean... we made it," she said with a weak smile. It was clear that she was immensely relieved to have her feet back on the ground.

"I hope this hasn't put you off flyin', though. Y'know, statistically speaking, it's really the safest way to travel."

Beth nodded. "I've heard that..." she said diplomatically. Launchpad beamed at her.

Darkwing was staring at the ceiling, high above them. "Do you all hear that?"

"Hear what?" Gosalyn asked, craning her neck to see what he was looking at. The walls were lined with pillars or something, and in the dim light she could just barely see that there was a similar striped appearance on the ceiling, but she had no idea what that meant. "What's up there?"

"St. Canard," he answered distractedly, and held a finger to his bill. "Listen."

They were quiet for a moment, and then Launchpad said, "Is there a rumbling..?"

"The earthquake's still going," Darkwing said.

"Then why can't we feel it?" Gosalyn looked to Beth for an answer, which annoyed her father beyond reason. Beth, in turn, shrugged.

"I don't know. This - this isn't how it's supposed to work," she said helplessly. She looked around at the walls and ceiling as well.

"Thanks for the insight, Dr. Science," said Darkwing. Beth sighed, and he ignored her. He drew his gas gun and beckoned to the others. "We've got the element of surprise, and we need to take it as far as we can and put a stop to whatever's going on. Come on, team - and Beth - time to dig a little deeper."

Launchpad looked around. "This place is huge. Which way should we go?"

Pointing at the ground, Darkwing drew their attention to the tracks in the dirt. "Unless I miss my guess, that digging machine left these. We started out following that thing, and I don't see a reason to stop now."

There were several tunnels ahead of them. The tracks from the digger led to one of the farthest ones, and they headed for it. A short ways into the tighter space was the machine itself, half-embedded in a wall and abandoned. They paused a moment to take it in - except for Beth, who held back, looking nervous. "What exactly are we looking for, anyway?" she asked quietly.

"Not what - who," Darkwing corrected her. "The fiend responsible for those earthquakes is almost certainly my no-goodnik nemesis, Moliarty." He turned and kept walking forward, and the others followed him.

To Gosalyn, Beth asked softly, "Should I know who that is...?"

"Dad, give Beth a refresher course," Gosalyn instructed.

With a sigh, Darkwing turned back to her. "Look, the thirty-second version is this: Moliarty is a fat little crackpot dictator with delusions of grandeur who leads a legion of moles down here. He's a nutty as they come and he's intent on taking over St. Canard so that his moles can live on the surface instead of underneath it."

"We've faced him twice before," Launchpad added helpfully.

This didn't seem to help Beth understand the situation, nor did it appear to make her feel any better. "Oh... But - if he wants to take over the city, why would he be destroying it?"

"Oh, you know," Darkwing said with a shrug, "typical madman behaviour, 'If I can't have it no one can', blah blah blah."

"On the contrary, Darkwing," came a rather self-assured, oddly nasal voice, "this particular plan of mine isn't 'typical' at all!"

Beth caught at Gosalyn's arm, since the girl was the closest one to her when they all stopped walking; Darkwing looked around wildly for the source of the voice, as Launchpad drew closer to Beth and Gosalyn. After a moment, Moliarty stepped out of the shadows of an unseen tunnel, and smirked at them.

"But you've got more than enough time to hear the full plan, before we make you slug bait."

* * *

Moliarty smirked down at his prisoners, now bound and held in a small circle on the earth in front of him. Just to reinforce his superior position, he'd had his minions bring in a large podium that he now stood behind, leering down at them. "Oh, Darkwing, you do remain so sadly predictable. In fact, I expected you some hours ago."

"Sorry to disappoint," the vigilante said, his tone dripping venom. "I've had a few things on my mind."

With a chuckle, Moliarty nodded. "Well, I suppose I can't expect you to be performing at peak mediocrity _all_ the time." He leaned over the podium, examining the group in front of them. He recognized the dimwitted sidekick, and certainly the obnoxious little girl, but he couldn't place the other female. "Now, who is this? Dripwing, have you brought your girlfriend?"

Darkwing cringed at the thought, and the girlfriend in question blushed and looked at the dirt she stood on. "Um, I'm not - I mean, I-I'm just the babysitter," she said awkwardly.

Moliarty burst into snide laughter. "Darkwing's babysitter! How perfect!" He wiped his eye and saw, to his satisfaction, his enemy glaring at the young lady.

"Thanks, Beth," Darkwing muttered _sotto voce_.

"Sorry!" Beth answered in a pained whisper.

Darkwing turned his attention back to their captor. "So, Moliarty, you promised a rant about your plans and I think we've got five minutes or so to spare for a good laugh. What are you and your underground underlings up to this time?"

Moliarty sneered down at them. "You won't be the one laughing, Dripwing, once our plan is complete. I think Phase One is just about done; men! Fetch me a radio!" He clapped twice, and one of his soldiers scrambled forward with a wireless radio, which he switched on. There was static; he fiddled with the dial and after a few moments, found a news report.

"...Again, the National Guard is declaring a forced evacuation from St. Canard due to the magnitude of the recent earthquakes. Any aftershocks could be considered deadly. All citizens should make their way to the closest evacuation station; stay tuned for details as to the locations. We repeat, St. Canard is in a state of emergency-"

Moliarty snapped the radio off, looking triumphant.

"Did you hear that?" Darkwing whispered to his friends.

Launchpad nodded. "They got a heck of a reception all the way down here! Usually I can't even drive under a tunnel without the radio fuzzin' out."

"They're evacuating the whole _city_? Do you think everyone's okay?" Gosalyn asked.

"SUCCESS!" yelled Moliarty. "Go fill in the holes," he instructed a group of moles, "and await further orders. After all, now that the surface dwellers are leaving, we don't want to cause more destruction to our city than is necessary." He turned his attention back to his captivces. "So you see, Darkwing, we're well on the way to claiming our rightful property."

"So the earthquakes are..."

"Just a way to chase you pesky surface bugs out of St. Canard for good, yes. We'll take care of any reconstruction that's needed once we raze the city and build our own Utopia!"

"Fascinating. But how exactly do you think you're going to get away with it? Once the earthquakes stop, St. Canard and its citizens aren't just going to hand the key to the city over to you."

Moliarty smirked. "They won't need to. When they return, they won't find St. Canard where they left it. We have plans to take this island out to sea!"

The captives all had varying reactions: Launchpad looked horrified, Beth looked perplexed by the very idea of floating a land mass away, and Gosalyn rolled her eyes. Darkwing, for his part, merely scoffed. "The Island of Dr. Mole-reau, huh? Sounds like a laugh a minute. You'll never get away with it, you malicious miscreant!"

"Well, phase one is already well and truly a success, so nyah-nyah to you," Moliarty shot back, sounding even snootier than usual. "And with our knowledge of engineering, believe me, phase two is going to be another nice big piece of cake!"

"Cake..." Beth said musingly, then looked enlightened. "OH! The supports! Oh, I understand how you kept the earthquakes from affecting you down here - oh, wow, that IS impressive engineering."

"Is this something you'd like to share with the rest of the group, Beth?" Darkwing asked, a slight growl to his voice.

"And how exactly does it relate to cake?" Gosalyn added.

"Oh, well, okay - well, you guys saw all those support fixtures and things in that big hall earlier, right..? And up above that, that's where all the digging was taking place and that was enough to weaken the general infrastructure of St. Canard's fault planes. But since all that is taking place *above* us, the area down here is free of the... um..." She trailed off, since even the moles were looking at her with varying level sof incomprehension. "Okay... let me start again... Say you have a big chocolate layer cake, right?"

"Okay!" said Launchpad, clearly enjoying the premise.

"So - if you were to take a spoon and just dig away big chunks from the middle of the cake, it would become totally unstable and start to wobble around - and the slightest pressure would set it off shaking and giving way, right? But the thing is, if you did that in just the _top_ layer of the cake, and you made sure you had some reinforcement between the layers so that any part of the top layer that comes down doesn't disturb the bottom layer... well, even if the top is wrecked, the bottom is still fine." She blew out a breath, as if slightly tired from the explanation.

Moliarty clapped, slowly and semi-sarcastically. "Your Nanny is smart, Dripwing," he said. "You should consider hiring her as a tutor as well! You could learn a lot!"

"Hmmmph. Well, Moliarty, you have quite the plan going."

"I know," said Moliarty smugly, and he buffed his fingernails on his jacket.

"But you're forgetting one thing!" Without pausing, Darkwing pulled a smoke bomb from his jacket and tossed it to the ground. "RUN!" he instructed his group as they were enveloped in purple smoke.

"NO! GET THEM!" Moliarty shouted, but he was quickly overtaken by the smoke; it was impossible to see where the captives had gone, and thus impossible to capture them.

Beth, however, stood where she was and looked around. She couldn't see anyone, everyone was shouting, and she had no idea *where* she was supposed to run. This whole evening had been a very, very bad idea.

And then someone grabbed her by the wrist.

* * *

_Note: Terra Furbies are Terra Firmians, from the DuckTales episode "Earth Quack". Launchpad isn't in that one. I figured he might've heard about it from McDuck or the kids afterwards, but I thought it was unlikely that he'd successfully manage to remember the name "Terra Firmians" without prompting, and there's no one there to help him. _

_Also, Launchpad's line about "statistically speaking, it's still the safest form of travel" is a reference to "Superman". Yaaaaay Superman!_


End file.
